#maybe one of those felt toys with catnip in it too

[laceratedlamiaceae]

AU where Izzy has a laser pointer and uses it to entertain Ed whenever he gets bored. this solves literally all their problems

#maybe one of those felt toys with catnip in it too #imagining ed as a literal cat makes him less annoying to me #our flag means death #ofmd #izzy hands #edward teach #blackhands #(if you want it to be) #shitpost

[rhythmicmeow]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: A General Pet Store PARTIES: Andy @declinlalune & Leticia @rhythmicmeow SUMMARY: Andy and Leticia go to a pet store together, where Leti gets a little dramatic about Andy being a dog person. CONTENT WARNING: None!

The excitement buzzing through Leticia's body wasn't unexpected. The idea of going to a pet store was always an appealing one, though she could write essays about how the catnip that was fresh was better. Writing a shopping list in her mind, she had been reciting it internally while Andy drove. Ask the cashier if the store had pet birds, look at the pet birds, check out the catnip and see if any is good, and maybe buy some cat toys. Inside the store, the list that Leticia had laid out for herself vanished. Sticking closely to Andy's side despite them both being adults and capable of doing their own shopping, Leticia wanted the companionship. She had missed the feeling of going out with friends that she had in California. Missed the phone calls at 2AM with her friend whispering that they had stolen the car keys and could pick her up in five if they wanted to go to the beach and listen to the waves.

This wasn't the same. They weren't kids trying to hide from their parents in the middle of the night, they were adults. But Andy invited her all the same and Leticia had jumped on the invitation. It was nice to feel wanted, even if just in small moments like this.

"What do you still need for him? Her? Uh, the dog?" Leticia asked, hearing the chirping birds and doing her best not to look in that direction. "When did you decide to get a dog anyway? I thought of you as more of a cat person."

—

Andy hadn’t anticipated just how many things a dog would need. Alex had gotten a good majority of things already, but Puppeye had already gone through three of the toys that they’d gotten her, so Andy was out on another trip to get more. This time, with Leticia in tow. 

It was nice, having somebody to do things with that wasn’t just Alex. Not that she typically minded hanging out with her sister, but it was true that she needed her own friends. With Kaden around, there was a little more separation, too, but he was off doing his own thing and she couldn’t rely entirely on him and she knew that. 

She looked over at Leti as they wandered down one of the many aisles made entirely for dogs. Andy had been grateful for Leticia’s accompaniment, even if she did seem a little different today. More excitable and distracted. 

“Um…” Andy looked into the shopping cart, shuffling a few of the items around. “I’d like to get a few more of those colorful chew toys, just because I think she likes them.” At her question, Andy’s brows rose. “Wait, is that because I’m a lesbian?” She was confused, because she wasn’t sure when she’d given that off at any given point. “I mean…” Andy let out a laugh, “I haven’t ever had a pet, and this is the first. I don’t know what kind of person I am.” She leaned against the cart as she drove it forward, tilting her head to look at Leticia as they walked. “You’re a cat person though, right?” 

—

"Colorful ones?" Leticia hummed as she looked at the toys. Her eyes drifted toward the end of the aisle where the cap was stocked with a variety of different toys. Cat toys included. "Maybe there are some over that way?" There weren't. She knew there weren't. Andy probably knew too, but it wasn't terrible of her to want to at least check it out, right? Maybe the perfect toy was hidden among different toys in the wrong spot of the store!

The lesbian comment felt like it came out of nowhere, and apparently, it was Leticia's turn to blush. "Oh my god, that's not what I meant." She felt the same frazzled feeling as she did when she thought another one of her friends thought she was straight. Which wasn't an inherently bad thing, but those were not the vibes that Leticia was trying to put out. But it came out of nowhere, and now Leticia was struggling to contain her laughter.

"Andy." She hid her cheeks and mouth behind her hands. For a solid moment, she stood there and tried to breathe. Not wanting to laugh, but not expecting Andy to play as dumb as she was. "I think I'm more of a cat girl personally. You know? Because of the ears? I can't believe you'd choose a dog over me, a cat. The best cat." The first giggles escaped. "Fuck, Andy. I wasn't expecting that."

—

“Yeah, or like, specific colored ones. I saw a tik tok with a filter over it that showed what dogs like, and it seems like they really like yellow.” She wanted Puppyeye to be comfortable in her new home, and sure, maybe she was going a little overboard, but still. She wanted to do right by the dogs that they found, and until they got more offers with people offering to take them off their hands, they’d be stuck with quite a few until it was all settled. “We can try over there, sure.” No suggestion was a bad suggestion, especially when shopping. Andy hated to do it, no matter what it was for. 

“I got told by…” Were they friends anymore? Andy began to feel the weight of her last interaction with Nicole and Leah and she quickly dismissed it. “Other lesbians, that being a cat person is a lesbian thing. I thought you were making a joke.” Andy watched the blush creep across the bridge of Leticia’s nose and she felt something stir in her chest. She quickly looked away, keeping her expression neutral. 

Leticia’s reaction caught Andy slightly off guard and she looked over her shoulder at her. “What?” She blinked innocently at her friend. And then it was like everything aligned. The cabinet, the constant comments that salt was a no-go for her. “Holy shit. You’re–” She raised her hand to her mouth. “I didn’t know.” It made so much sense and she felt so stupid. She’d been trying so hard not to be invasive that she looked straight through the number of coincidences that led to Leticia being a balam. “You are a cat girl, you’re right.” She tried to imagine Leti with cat ears, but couldn’t quite get there. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Sometimes I’m an idiot, okay?” She let out a laugh of her own and knocked her shoulder with Leticia’s, feeling the blush creeping across the back of her neck. “Listen, I’m not always this clueless, okay?” It was hard to contain her own laughter now and she buried her face into her hands. “God dammit.” 

—

Yellow wasn't her favorite color, but she could understand the appeal. It was happy and bright, and maybe dogs felt the same way? Especially if it was one of a few choice colors they could see. Leticia hadn't had a problem seeing colors, but did the balam? Did she prefer yellow over other colors? The thoughts floated around for a moment before she remembered a toy the next aisle over they had walked past. "What about that nacho and guacamole dip toy? It came with little stuffed chips you can hide inside the bowl for them!"

The laughter was getting harder to mask, her shoulders bouncing with the sound she was trying to hide. "No, no. I promise it wasn't that." She had been so offended that Andy could be a dog person, she didn't even think of the other implications. She had, at first, just assumed Andy had said it to throw Leticia off. And it had worked to that effect, but it was so much funnier as the context was revealed.

Waving her hand at her face, trying to get some air, the laughter didn't stop. "You didn't-" Leticia looked away from Andy, feeling the tears form with the uncontrolled laughter. "I thought you knew! I thought your... you know, just told you what I was. You didn't know." Andy was covering her face after a few apologies that weren't needed. "You're not an idiot, I assumed you knew." She was adding up all the strange moments where Leticia had been more cat than person, and wondered what Andy had thought of her in those moments. What animal did she think Leticia was? "I thought you were pretending just to get a rise out of me," she confessed, putting a hand on Andy's shoulder and leaning into her friend as she laughed. "And it worked too, I was so offended for a minute there, thinking you casually dismissed cats because that would be too lesbian coded." With a deep breath and a slow release, the laughter lessened. So long as she didn't look at Andy directly.

“Mhmm.” It was hard to talk now, especially while she was trying to stifle her laughter. To anyone else, this may not be that funny, but to Andy, it was hysterical. The idea that she’d been hanging out with Leticia for a few months now and had no clue that she was a balam, despite her abilities telling her exactly that. “Listen, I don’t want to talk about it.” She shook her head and tried to ignore the… not sinking feeling, but something else– something unfamiliar, as Leticia knocked back into her. The proximity was easier to endure like this. There was less on the line. 

“I didn’t. I didn’t know, I had no clue.” Should she even begin to tell Leti that it’d been out of courtesy? That she didn’t want to be invasive? Would that dismiss the idiocy altogether? She inhaled through her nose and rubbed her face. “NO! No, I wasn’t.” She shook her head and finally looked at Leti, devastated by the way the other woman couldn’t even look at her. Was it really that funny? “Leti, please.” She snorted through the plea and she pushed the cart forward. “I wasn’t dismissing anything! I just don’t know what kind of animal person I am, you know?” It was a fair enough explanation, she thought. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the laughter at bay, eyes scanning the number of products on the shelves. “So uh… about the guac?” She looked at Leticia, her expression twisted into something comical. “You’re still laughing, aren’t you?” She couldn’t even see her face, but Andy saw the set of her shoulders. “Come on! It wasn’t even that–” She hadn’t been watching where she was going, and suddenly her cart was crashing into a neighboring display of cat nip toys. 

One of the plastic containers broke, sending the contents all over the floor. “Shit. I’m going to have to buy that now.” Stealing it would be impossible at this point, with all the commotion they were making.

—

Leticia wished she could look at Andy and tell her that she wasn't still laughing. Anyone else in the store might have heard them giggling like children in the aisle, unable to understand how the situation had created a perfect storm of laughter. "Oh my god, did you just accept me climbing on the bookcase as normal?" Or another kind of animal? The balam stirred in protest at the idea, she was too proud to be reduced to any other kind of animal. Not understanding the humor in the misunderstanding. But Leticia? She still had a hand over her mouth, dampening her laughter as much as she could.

"I'm not still laughing!" She said, between fits of giggles. "I would stop a lot sooner if you stopped too!" Andy tried to explain, once more, that it really wasn't that funny, but Leticia was too far gone to calm down with a few short words like that. "You better be a cat person after this," she teased, before hearing the rattling of the display of cat toys - but it wasn't the crack of plastic that reached Leticia first. It was the sudden aroma that filled the area. The laughter stopped and Leticia stilled. Her hand over her mouth now moving to rub below her nose, trying to force the smell away. But there was too much of it.

Her eyes were locked on the broken pieces of plastic, the aisle and the laughter far from her mind now. Leticia knew that she'd owe Andy an apology after this. Before she could explain, Leticia was on the ground, her face pressed to the cold floor and her eyes locked on the other items that had fallen on the ground. All filthy, but somehow the most interesting things in the store. Her hand darted underneath the display, pulling out more of the catnip from underneath and pushing it toward her face. "You should but three. Four. More."

—

A lady meandered down the aisle, tossing a cautionary glance their way. Andy had half a mind to tell her to mind her business, but she looked back to Leticia with a raised brow. “I mean, maybe? I feel like this puts so much into context for me now, though.” There were a lot of things about Leti that were more… catlike than any of the other shifter types out there. But Andy had wanted to respect her privacy, and because it hadn’t been blatantly said, she wanted to let her friend have some semblance of secrecy, if it could even be considered as such, especially at this point. 

Andy didn’t even have to look at her reflection to know that the redness from the back of her neck had spread to her cheeks. Her entire face and chest were warm. “Stop it! Leticia, please.” She shook her head desperately, willing for her friend to just let her get away with this one stupid thing for once. But before she could protest any further, Leti quieted down, suddenly dropping onto all fours. 

She stared in shock as Leticia smeared her face against the floor, hand swiping beneath the display. A few different sized cat toys slid from beneath it, but her friend didn’t seem to care about those. No, it was the catnip. “Oh my god.” Andy looked around them hurriedly, dropping into a crouched position next to Leticia. Her hair hung in her face and the redhead couldn’t get a good look at the expression she wore. “Leti?” She tried, this time a little louder. Would Leticia transform because of this? She hoped not. Leticia was mumbling something under her breath and Andy quieted so that she could hear. “Four? Four more? Four more what?” 

—

Leticia was completely lost on the floor of the store. The cool tiles were soothing like the right side of the pillow. Her pupils were wide, searching for more catnip on the ground and around her, barely hearing Andy’s voice. It was her name, but why wasn’t Andy helping? There were so many cool things under the display. 

Her fingers brushed against a ball that had rolled under the rack, and as it thumped against the back of the rack, it light up. The bright colors caused her to push her head back, her eyes closing while she tried to blink away the irritation, but as soon as her eyes were open again, she was batting at it. “Look.” The ball rolled out toward her feet, and with strange precision considering her condition, she flicked the ball with her foot and rolled it toward her face and hands, where she grabbed it and showed Andy. Proudly, even. The ball itself was in terrible condition, it looked like a discarded toy from an animal who decided it wasn’t as great as Leticia had found it.

Holding it in the air, she tried to push it into Andy’s face. “It’s so pretty, do you like it?” The question of four more what caused Leticia to pull the ball away from her, looking dejected and upset. What sort of question was that? Was it not obvious? She rolled her head back the other way, her cheek back into catnip and her eyes shut as she rotated the side of her head in it. Sharply lifting her head from the ground, she grabbed another plastic container of catnip and held it closely to her chest with the nasty ball she had found. “More,” she repeated, showing what she was holding to Andy, but quickly twisting her body away. “You need to get your own.”

—

Andy didn’t know what to do. She’d never been in this position before. It wasn’t like Alex went crazy over tennis balls or anything. Andy stood frozen next to Leticia, not quite sure how to get her off of the floor. People were starting to stare now and Andy gave them a tight lipped smile before waving them off. “She lost an earring.” But if they were listening, they would know that wasn’t true. Andy decided not to worry about it, at least for right now. 

The ball that Leticia had swiped from beneath the display lit up, rolling towards her shoe. Before she could pick it up, Leti had already grabbed it. Andy stared at the brunette as she held it out for inspection. It was covered in dust, a half-off price sticker that was torn in half and… gum? She leaned back slightly, grabbing her friend’s wrist lightly, steering the other woman’s hands away from her face. Andy was in awe at how the woman in front of her now did not resemble the woman she’d been upright with moments ago. Her hair was in her face, pieces of catnip hanging out of it, as well as some dust. Her shirt was covered in it, too. 

Before she could make a move to get Leti onto her feet, she was dropping back down onto the ground, her cheek smoothing against the tile. “Leti,” Andy whined, looking up to see if anyone was watching them. Luckily they were alone in the aisle. For now. “I don’t want–” Inhaling sharply through her nose, she looked towards the display. She’d dealt with Alex as a child enough to maybe know how to rectify a semi-temper tantrum, if it could even be considered that. “Listen, Leti?” She swiped at Leti’s arm, dusting away some of the catnip that was stuck to her sleeve. “I’ll buy you all the catnip you’re holding, plus two more– four more packets. Only if you get up though, okay?” So maybe she was a sucker, but the last thing they needed was to get reported to any kind of authorities for public intoxication. “Does that sound okay?” She kept her voice low, moving closer to Leti so that she could help support her into a sitting position. Andy moved some of the hair out of her friend’s face, suppressing a laugh at the expression she wore. After this was done, Andy knew she’d never let her live it down. 

—

Leticia’s mind was a mess. The fuzziness inside her head felt like it was getting stronger. Or maybe it was fading and her mind wanted more? She wasn’t sure, but she figured that it couldn’t be fog from too much catnip. She clearly needed more. And she had been about to rub her face on the tiles one more time until she heard Andy say she lost an earring. Was she wearing earrings? Her hands came up to her ears and immediately checked to see if anything was missing. No, they were both there. Had Andy lost an earring? Did Andy even have pierced ears? 

Allowing herself to be propped up so she was sitting properly, Leticia looked Andy directly in the eyes before dropping the containers she had in her arms to the ground, more concerned now about Andy’s ears. She moved quickly, grabbing her ears and pulling them out just enough to check for earrings or lack thereof, and deciding she was satisfied with what she saw, she let go. “I’m not missing an earring and you’re not either,” Leticia said in a not-whisper, leaning closer to Andy as if she had caught her friend out in a lie. “Why would you say something like that? Should I check the catnip for it? I can check the catnip for it. And under the display, there are so many cool things under the display I bet I could find an earring. Do you want an earring?” Maybe if she looked hard enough, she’d find a pair underneath there. Maybe not matching, but a set of something.

She had been about to pull herself out of Andy’s grip once more when she heard the promise of four packets. All she needed to do in turn was get off the floor! That would be easy. Maybe she could jump, that would be really impressive, wouldn’t it? To be sprawled on the floor and then jump to her feet without the usual steps between? “That sounds purrfect, actually,” Leticia replied, sticking out her pinky finger and then, forced her pinky finger around Andy’s and nodded her head. “Now it’s a promise, you can’t take it back. I need these.” She grabbed the containers that she dropped, forgetting to grab the additional ones that Andy had bribed her with, and then situated herself to get up. Forgetting her idea to just jump as well. “Do you think they have fish here?” 

—

Andy hadn’t moved away fast enough. One moment, Leticia was staring into her soul, and the next, her friend was grabbing onto her ears. “Ow.” It didn’t even hurt her, but it left her out of reflex. She craned her neck slightly so that Leticia wouldn’t pull her completely over. She spoke and Andy felt the back of her neck burn with embarrassment. The urge to cover Leticia’s mouth with her hand was strong, but she refrained. Instead, she knelt across from her friend, a dumbfounded expression peeling over her features. “Because.” Because why? Why was Andy so embarrassed about this? Maybe she was afraid– afraid that anyone who knew or could sense Leticia for what she was, would immediately make her a target. Andy pushed the thought from her mind, eager to have some sense of normalcy. Even if this was far from it, at least she could spend more time laughing than throwing concerned looks over her shoulder. 

But Leticia was offering to find her an earring and Andy was shaking her head. “No, you don’t– no.” She let out a laugh, watching Leti as she considered the offer that’d been given to her. Andy hoped that her friend would concede. Andy watched her, wondering if she’d decide it was enough, but she hadn’t anticipated Leticia’s quip. Purrfect. Andy could hear it ringing in her ears now. “You really are a cat.” It came out in a whisper, half-amazed, half-dumbfounded. She didn’t get much time to process, because Leticia’s pinky finger was in her face, then curling around her own. Flustered, Andy nodded. “Yes, okay. I promise.” 

She was careful as she got to her feet, not wanting to tip over Leticia and the catnip canisters she’d collected in her arms. Andy wasn’t sure what to do– would this go away on its own? Was there a remedy? Was it even a good idea to suggest buying them for her as a way to get her out of the store? Any knowledge she had of balams had gotten lost over the years and she tried desperately to comb over memories, hopeful something would come of use for their situation. But Andy didn’t figure that most texts included the bit about catnip, so maybe it was why she was so damn surprised. “Fish? Um…” They probably did. They were at a pet store. “I don’t know. We can check another time, yeah?” Andy focused on Leticia, not knowing whether or not yanking her up by her arms would be all that helpful. Instead, she circled the other woman, supporting her from behind back onto her feet. She steadied the other, hands on Leticia’s shoulders. Leaning in slightly, she motioned to the cash registers at the end of the aisle. “We’re going that way. Do you want to put your stuff into the cart?” Andy’s concern came and went, molding into amusement as she started to dust some of the catnip and dust off of Leti’s shoulders. 

—

Because? There was a pained expression on Leticia’s face. Why was Andy not answering? What did ‘because’ even mean? She opened her mouth, about to ask for a deeper explanation of what that was all supposed to mean and why was ‘because’ the only answer that had been provided. But somewhere in the confusion, Leticia had fully lost her train of thought. Because why lingered in her mind, but followed by a what? Because why what? Puffing her cheeks, she tried to focus on what was happening, but it was like grasping at smoke. For a moment, it appeared like she had something, and then the next, it was all gone. 

The comment about her being a cat - or the compliment - brought a new grin to Leticia’s face. “Jaguar, remember, she doesn’t like being called other things.” Though, balam was the most correct term, jaguar was less foreign to people. “But I don’t mind cat, cats are cute. Way better than other pets.” Which circled her thoughts right back to Andy getting a dog instead of a cat. Traitor. But she could be bought with catnip, clearly. The traitor thing would have to be saved for another time, if she remembered. “Good, good,” she whispered, nodding her head as if they had made some sort of ritualistic pact that Leticia would hold over Andy until they were dead. “If you want me to get those earrings though, I can still do that! I am an excellent finder.” She might have made her way to her feet with Andy’s help, but the floor wasn’t so bad. 

WIth both hands on the cart, Leticia leaned forward and looked at the dog items inside before dumping the few items that she managed to keep in her arms. “Simon’s gonna love these,” she whispered before attempting to drive the cart. It swerved just slightly, causing Leticia to cling to the sides and stand perfectly still in the aisle before she composed herself, as much as she could, at least. Deflating over the handle of the cart, Leticia crossed her arms inside the child seat and slowly rolled it forward. Her mind was still foggy and her thoughts were mostly of fish, but she managed to keep on track to where Andy pointed. “Do you need more avocados for your dog?” Was that why they had gone there? Sounded right. 

—

Andy wondered if every balam faced this kind of thing, or if it was just Leticia. She made a mental note to ask Nicole the next time she saw her, whenever that’d be. They’d talked since their last… talk, and things had gone well, or so she hoped. It was surreal to her that she’d managed to befriend not one, but two balams. Maybe three, considering Luis gave her the same hair raising feeling the other two did. Whatever. Not time to speculate. She felt rude in doing so, anyway. She inhaled sharply, blinking at Leti as she corrected the verbage. “Jaguar. Yeah– uh, sorry.” She felt the back of her neck go red again. 

Leticia continued spouting off that she preferred cats and Andy couldn’t even feign surprise. She seemed like more of a cat person, anyway. “Okay, okay.” She hesitated, not reaching out to steady her friend as she grabbed onto the cart. “No, I– I don’t need any. It’s really okay.” She forced down her smile, though it fought to take up pretty much her entire face. 

Andy stood behind Leti as she leaned against the cart. It began to push forward and Andy had half a mind to grab it so it didn’t steer into another display. She wasn’t sure who Simon was, but assumed it was either another balam or a cat. Probably the latter. Andy wasn’t sure if Leti would have kept a whole other balam from her. Or maybe she would have. It was her right. Andy quickly cleaned up some of the mess, dusting with her hands the catnip into a small pile off to the side. At checkout she’d let them know what happened. She looked up to see Leti continuing to push the cart down the aisle. “Avo…” Right, that was why they were here. “Um, yeah. Let’s… go do that. Avocados.” She hurried to Leticia’s side, guiding the cart in the right direction before stealing a glance at Leticia who was seemingly coming down from her catnip high. I should have taken a picture, Andy thought. Then again, Emilio might have found out about it and tried to get it from her. Probably better that there was no evidence. 

#wickedswriting #char: andy #andy: catnip tango

[delimeful]

you cant go back (2)

warnings: fear, miscommunication, guilt, mentions of theoretical gore/injury, dehumanization, referring to a person as 'it', general angst

-

For the fourth day in a row, Lady Macbeth had spurned him.

Roman frowned, pulling the strap of his messenger bag over his head and tossing it over the back of a kitchen chair.

Lady was old, smug, and occasionally very cranky, but she wasn’t deaf like Ophelia-- she always came prancing over once she heard his keys rattling in the lock, delighted at the opportunity to smear cat hair all over his pants and get her claws stuck in his shoelaces.

Yet here he stood, catless.

For the past few days, too, she hadn’t been in the house at all when he got home. He’d been downright worried that first day, uneasy until she strolled back in at dusk.

They had an expansive backyard that their younger cats took delight in frolicking in, but their second-oldest cat was a rare visitor to the outdoors. Lady was first and foremost a homebody, and she preferred a warm body to sit on. Their squishy heat-generating human bodies were the only reason she hadn’t assassinated them all in their sleep by now, according to--

Roman cut the thought off sharply, feeling familiar grief pit up in his throat. He shook his head, the motion harsh enough to make his neck twinge. There was no time for standing about and pondering! He had a cat to locate!

A determined jut to his chin, he grabbed what supplies he would need for this perilous journey-- cat treats, a catnip toy, even a tempting cardboard box-- and strode confidently out the backdoor.

For the next half-hour, he wandered around the acres of their property, greeting each of the goats and chickens by name as he checked all the most common cat hidey-holes.

He’d almost given up by the time he stumbled across the old barn, pant legs covered in burrs and the beginnings of a sunburn across the back of his neck. Whatever delightful cat secrets Lady was so busy with, surely he could discover them when it wasn’t the middle of summer.

Just before he could turn around, though, he noticed that one of the doors was just slightly ajar.

Roman felt his brow gradually scrunch up the longer he stared at it. It had been locked up after the last of the old supplies had been moved from it, hadn’t it? The last big storm had proved it wasn’t weather-worthy, his dad had plans to take it apart for timber, ones that had seemingly been forgotten after… afterwards.

Petty inconveniences of getting there forgotten, Roman crept closer on light feet, grip tight on the catnip mouse in his hand. The wind died down at an eerily perfect moment, and he strained to hear beyond those old wooden walls.

Not everything is a grand conspiracy, a voice in his head reminded him, sounding suspiciously similar to Specs, it could simply be someone without housing that took the opportunity for shelter provided by the abandoned barn.

Roman sidled halfway through the ajar door, and froze at the sight of an upright humanoid figure only a few meters away. Something about it wasn't right, instantly putting him on edge. He kept staring, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

(“I’m telling you, these lights were strange even by my standards! Almost… alien.” An unsettling grin that was a beat late.)

The figure’s head was dropped forward, but he could tell even from this distance that it wasn’t human, with shiny purple-grey segmented skin and legs with knees facing the wrong way. It had spiky shoulder joints, but its arms seemed to be tucked behind it.

(Roman had shoved him off the couch, sour about being taken in by one of his tales, and he hadn’t brought it up again.)

Most alarming of all, there were four long, spindly limbs stretched out into the air behind it, seemingly spawning from its back. The legs were spider-like in nature, but shiny instead of hairy, and each one ended in a sharp point. As he watched, he could see the limbs shifting slowly, pairs of them lifting and falling in odd synchrony with the creature’s slow breathing.

(Roman had been freaked out, and his brother had dropped the subject. He should’ve asked, he should have known something was wrong--)

“Miaow.” A plaintive voice called, nearly startling Roman out of his skin.

He tore his gaze away from the (alien) mystery intruder, and felt his jaw drop as he took in Lady Macbeth’s current position. Loafing on the feet of an insidious intruder?!

For shame, he mouthed silently at her.

Lady blinked slowly and continued to purr, unbothered by his accusatory stare. One of those spider limbs shifted again, making Roman swallow nervously. He really didn’t want to see what sort of automatic reaction an extraterrestrial’s stabby-arms would have to finding a cat in its space.

He waved the catnip mouse enticingly. Lady gave him the bland look of a cat who had preferred those expensive feather toys for as long as he had known her. Roman resisted the urge to facepalm.

The insanely dangerous method it was, then.

Putting all his sneaking skills to use, he sidled further into the barn, dropping into a crouch and beginning to creep across the dirt floor as slowly as possible. Each step was carefully placed, almost entirely silent, and whenever those freaky appendages twitched, he froze in place for a full thirty seconds.

The alien’s head remained lax (asleep?) as he drew closer, but Lady refused to entertain his desperate motions for her to leave her ill-chosen bed. At this rate, he’d have to pick her up off of it, and hope that she didn’t complain too much on the way out.

He shifted his weight forwards, and suddenly all four of the arms were still, almost taut in the air. Only a couple feet away, the alien’s head bobbed slightly. His time was up.

Clenching his teeth, Roman made a gamble.

He tossed the little mouse toy directly at the space above the alien’s head and dove for Lady.

There was a whistle, like a whip or an arrow sliding through the air, and Roman made the mistake of glancing up as soon as he had his hands securely around Lady’s body.

All four of the spider limbs had jabbed into the same point, skewering the toy from several different angles. The alien was certainly awake now, and it had four times as many eyes as any one person could reasonably need. Between one heartbeat and the next, those huge dark irises went from staring at the poor mutilated toy to staring at Roman.

Terror shot through him and he gave up on subtlety, throwing himself back as hard as he could and hoping that he made it out of range.

He landed on his back with a whomp that knocked the wind out of him, and flinched as that terrifying whistling sound split the air again, ending in a muted thump. He was so wired with adrenaline that he couldn’t tell if he’d been hit or not. Locked in his arms, Lady writhed and complained loudly.

“Not going anywhere,” Roman wheezed, “you little fiend, con-- consorting with the enemy.”

There were several more whistle-thumps, which was either very good or very bad for him. He rolled to his side, pushing himself up on an elbow and taking stock of himself, braced for the worst.

The alien was still standing there against the central support beam of the barn. Half a foot from Roman’s leg, it's very sharp extra arms had left holes pierced in the hard-packed dirt of the barn’s floor.

“But no holes in me,” Roman cheered weakly, and then shifted Lady to the crook of one arm and flipped the alien off. “Nice try, Space Invader.”

The alien made a deep clicking rumble, but stopped trying to impale him. Instead, it moved to hold all those limbs high up in the air menacingly, ready to stab down at any point. The remains of the toy mouse sat near its feet, cotton innards spilling everywhere like a grim warning.

Roman got to his own feet, wincing at the feeling of Lady’s claws poking into his ribs as she attempted to kick her way to freedom. He took a moment to stare once he was back upright.

The alien’s skin plates had gone completely pitch-black, only the slightest hints of purple between the plates to prove that there’d ever been any color to it at all. Roman was abruptly glad that he hadn’t encountered it in the dark of night.

Its eyes were just as dark, with only the slightest difference in shades of black to indicate the difference between iris and sclera. Despite his artistic eye for color differences, even Roman couldn’t tell where its pupils were. If it even had pupils.

It also was still stuck in one place, despite its legs seeming totally operational. Roman slowly shuffled to the side of it, making sure to keep a few good steps clear of stabbing range, and found that it did in fact have normal arms and hands.

Well. Mostly normal. There were five fingers, but they were all way too long and ended in thick, claw-like points. He thought they also maybe had one or two too many joints.

More to the point, the alien couldn’t do anything with these arms because they were bound together at the wrists and tied tightly to the central support beam of the barn. It was stuck there, and going by the aggressive rumbling it was doing, it knew it.

Roman pulled out his phone and managed to take a shaky video of the alien, circling around it to both get a better angle and prompt it to threateningly twitch those back limbs some more. He knew his sci fi tropes, including the one where the alien mysteriously disappears the moment the plucky protagonist tries to tell anyone about the danger. He wasn’t going to be called crazy again.

Once he was content with the amount of evidence he had, he made the trek back to the house at a near-sprint, the cat in his arms protesting all the way. He burst through the back door, letting the screen fall shut behind him, and finally allowed Lady to walk on the power of her own four paws. She beelined for the screen door, stood up on her hind legs, and rattled it expectantly.

“Absolutely not,” Roman told her firmly, nudging her away. “I don’t know what it is with you and courting death via Xenomorph, but you are henceforth banned from the outdoors.”

If angry little kitty looks could kill, Roman would be as dead as King Duncan.

Shaking his head, he went over to the ancient landline phone in their kitchen, lifted the phone from its cradle, and paused.

Who was he going to call?

He’d had some half-conceived notion of calling his parents, or that infuriating police officer, or even just 911. What would he even say? ‘Hello operator, my emergency is that I have an alien in my barn, I promise this isn’t a prank’? Even the dial tone wouldn’t believe that.

And what if they did get someone out here to verify that there was a real alien? There was little doubt in his mind that law enforcement and then the government would quickly step in, whisking the evil version of E.T. away into some distant Area 51 lab. Roman would never see it-- or get any answers from it-- ever again.

He hung the phone up with a solid click, and turned to face the kitchen.

If he was going to interrogate a hostile alien, he needed to arm himself.

---

Shockingly, when he returned to the barn, the alien was still there.

He had crept up quietly again, hoping to catch it unawares, but this time it had been staring unerringly at him from the moment he peeked through the door, those smaller, rounder eyes wide open under its main ones.

He pushed the door open further with a dramatic flourish, pretending like he hadn’t been sneaking at all.

“Alien scourge,” Roman greeted, wincing at the crack in his voice. He cleared his throat, ignoring the way the alien’s dark gaze sent chills down his spine. “I don’t know how you ended up here, but I do know that you’re going to give me the information that I need.”

He pointed the end of his weapon of choice for emphasis, and the alien recoiled with a hiss, quickly jabbing out at it with those back arms.

Just as he’d hoped, however, putting vegetable oil on the already-slick plastic handle of the kitchen broom had made it basically impossible for those single-pronged limbs to stab or grab it. He grinned triumphantly, poking the alien with the end of it. The playing field had officially been evened.

“Now, unless you want me to introduce you to the Earth concept of piñatas, you better tell me what you’re here for.”

The alien was entirely silent, watching him with those shiny, pitch-black eyes. Behind it, its spider arms were vibrating with tension, probably in preparation to stab out the moment he slipped up.

“I’m serious,” Roman warned, poking it a little harder and getting exactly nothing for his efforts, not even a glare. “I know what I saw that night, and there’s no way it’s a coincidence that now you’re here. It was an abduction."

He paused for effect, and the alien let out a series of clicks and low, warped sounds that sounded like meaningless nonsense.

"I don't speak alien." Roman frowned. "Tell me what happened. Why were you-- or, your-- your brethren or your shipmates or whatever, why were they taking people? Where did they take them?”

The alien made what sounded like the same exact series of noises. Roman groaned in frustration.

“In-- In English! You understand what I’m saying, don’t you? If aliens are real and have the technology to infiltrate Earth without being detected, they have to have some way of communicating! An insta-translator or telepathy or math nonsense or something!” He threw his arms out in frustration, making the alien twitch.

He paced back and forth for a moment, before coming to a stop in front of the alien again and leveling it with an accusatory stare. “You’re faking it. I don’t believe that you can’t understand me.”

The alien just kept staring at him, flat plates where its mouth should have been, not a single expression visible on its face. It was about as convinced by Roman’s argument as everyone else in his life, which was to say, not at all. He felt a surge of white-hot anger, and levered the broom at its neck threateningly.

“Tell me, right now!” he demanded, stinging tears building up at the corner of his eyes. “Tell me where my brother is!”

He shoved the broom further forwards, and the alien snapped its limbs forwards and knocked it away, startling him into stumbling back. It hissed at him again, stabbing at the ground like a warning. He scowled, swiping at his face with a sleeve, and swung the broom handle at it sharply.

The swing went wide, more than a foot from touching any of it, but the alien showed the closest thing to emotion he’d seen so far, half of its eyes flinching closed in anticipation. Roman felt a sickening twist in his gut, some odd mix of guilt, anger, and vindication, and he turned away sharply.

Not for the first time, he wished he’d been the one that had been taken.

Remus wouldn’t care if the stupid cops didn’t listen to him, if their parents didn’t believe him, if the whole town thought he was insane. He would know how to convince an alien to talk, would threaten to-- to crush its extra eyes or cut off limbs or do something Roman was too squeamish to even think up.

If it was Remus, it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t know what to do. He’d at least do something.

He wouldn’t be going through the motions of life like everything was the same.

Pretending had always been Roman’s specialty, after all.

Roman cast a furious glare over his shoulder at the alien, resentful that it was still staring at him even as he was in the middle of a breakdown, and tossed the broom into the corner.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said, swallowing back the thickness in his voice, “and every day after that until you tell me.”

Threat delivered, he stormed out of the barn and slammed the doors shut behind him.

#sanders sides #humans are space orcs #ts roman #ts virgil #space au #humans are deathworlders #ycgb #you cant go back #my writing #writing #sanders sides fic #alien virgil

[yikesharringrove]

I have a headcanon that Billy doesn"t really know how to apologize like most people do. To him, the words are kind of empty so he just does things for people instead. Things like replacing all of the dishes with better quality ones for the Byers, making the girliest clothes Max hates disappear and replaced with things she likes, a new slingshot showing up in Lucas's locker, breaking into a car to fix it. Steve is weirdly charmed by it.

These may both be you? But here’s a combo since they’re p much the same idea

anonymous asked: Billy has forgotten how to actually connect with people so he shows affection through acts of chaotic good, like planting catnip all over the yard of the lady who allergic for yellomg at Max or breaking into a car so he can fix the engine. Steve figures out Billy is the one doing all these oddly kind things but he is still kind of intimidated by the blonde so instead of thanking him out right he just leaves things like cigarettes and baked good for him in his car. Have fun with that one!

This got pretty long so I put some of it under the cut.

-

Billy didn’t believe in the words I’m sorry.

They just didn’t make sense  to him. He had never heard the words when someone actually meant them, and fuck knows he’s never actually meant those words before.

But that does not mean there aren’t things in his life he regrets.

For example: beating the shit outta Steve Harrington.

He felt like absolute fucking garbage about it. 

Harrington hadn’t deserved that shit. Billy was just runnin’ hot that night, and Harrington had been unlucky enough to have bad timing.

But he didn’t know how to fix it.

So he started leaving snacks in Steve’s locker.

He noticed how he would always be giving his friends the food off his fucking plate, so he would shove granola bars, candies, even made him a sandwich one day.

He watched as Steve would eat whatever it was Billy had left for him, just fuckin’ chowed down without question.

He would look into classes, find out where Steve sat and leave little treats on his desk.

“Mr. Harrington, I think you may have a secret admirer.” Steve flushed a little at the cupcake, and shoved it into his mouth in two bites at the beginning of history class, but he wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, and figured whenever this chick came forward, he would thank her for being so thoughtful, and let her down gently.

-

After leaving Harrington alone with all his snacks, Billy set his sights on his other regret.

He had Max hadn’t always fought and bickered. True, Billy wasn’t the warmest, when they first met, but once he got his car they would drive around together a lot. He’d take her to the arcade and the boardwalk. They both didn’t like being home too much.

So when Billy’s informed he’ll be watching Max for the weekend while Neil takes Susan to the city, he forms a little plan.

There’s one Chinese restaurant in Hawkins. It’s totally not authentic, not like the dim sum they used to get wandering around San Fransisco, but they had steamed pork buns and Billy picked up eight.

He let Max do whatever she wanted that weekend, figured they would have better luck with one another if they both acted like outdoor cats, coming and going as they pleased, but come Sunday evening, all the pork buns were gone, and there was an unopened pack of cigarettes on his nightstand.

-

Regret number three: Lucas Sinclair.

Billy probably felt the most fucked up over this kid.

He’d gone after him, a fucking child, in his blind rage.

He had figured that out when he came to on the floor of that weird house, sitting up empty and alone, realizing I’m just like Neil.

He had seen all those kids with their nerdy toys, went out to RadioShack, early Sunday morning, leaving with a light wallet and a new idea.

Dustin was arguing with Mike over the realism of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, like there was anything realistic about it.

Lucas rolled his eyes, opening his locker, his mouth dropping open when he saw something inside.

He pulled the bag out, peering inside.

There were six brand new walkie talkies inside.

They were better than the ones they already used, had further range and more channels.

Everyone went silent.

“Um, these aren’t mine.”

Max’s eyes went wide. She snatched something up from the top shelf of Lucas’s locker.

The new Wrist Rocket had a note attached to it. She knows this handwriting, but couldn’t place it.

Enjoy the new gear. Don’t quit saving the world.

“Do you think they’re from Steve?”Max furrowed her brows at the note.

And then everything clunked into place.

“Maybe.”

The boys were tearing into the new walkies.

She got two cokes from the vending machine at lunch, handing one quietly to Billy when she got in his car after school.

-

Billy doesn’t really know what he’s doing here.

He had driven Max to one of her nerdy little friend’s houses, and somehow he got roped into staying? He doesn’t even remember.

But now he’s standing with a short kind woman, in the exact kitchen he beat the shit out of Harrington in, with Steve himself leaning against the other wall, watching the kids like some kinda hawk.

Billy’s hands were shaky, and he inserted himself into washing dishes from dinner.

He noticed most of them had chips, and all of them were mismatched. He put them away quietly, and drove to the nearest home goods store he could find.

Ceramic plates didn’t run too much, and he got a nice set of three different sizes, twelve plates of each size, light blue like the one he broke.

He left them on the porch, parked his car down the road a ways.

He rang the doorbell, sprinting and diving into the bushes before anyone can see him.

He watched as one of the sons, the one his age, the one in his English literature class, opened the door, his brow furrowing at the box of new plates.

“Um, Mom? Somebody left us a set of plates?”

He closed the door, but the took the plates with him.

-

Billy was sitting on the lawn, had just finished raking up all the damn leaves, and was taking a well-earned smoke break as he watched Max skating up and down the street, practicing her kickflips and ollies.

She cut into the driveway across the street, the only one on the entire block that was well paved, no cracks in the cement.

“Get out of here!” Max started as Mrs. Reynolds, a mean old woman was shouting through her screen door. “You little hooligan! You’re going to leave marks!”

Max bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she boarded back over to their house, standing next to Billy.

“I’ll be having a word with your father!” She rolled her eyes as Billy ground his jaw.

Cat nip was way more expensive than Billy was expecting, but he bought plenty of packages, returning home just past sunset.

He waited until about three in the morning, when Mrs. Reynolds’ sprinklers had finally turned back off before he climbed out his window, spreading the cat nip through her yard.

He flipped her house the bird.

Max was awed at the cats the next morning as Billy drove them both to school.

There must’ve been at least a hundred.

“Isn’t Mrs. Reynolds allergic?” Billy tried not to laugh.

“Damn. That sucks for her.”

-

Billy was sitting on the hood of his car, reading one of his lit books while he waited for Max to get out of her nerd club.

He startled a little bit when someone knocked on the hood.

And it was Harrington, smiling sheepishly at Billy.

“The Byers got some new plates last night. You know anything about that?” Billy tracked the thin scar on Steve’s head. It disappeared into his hairline. Billy wonders how long he had sat in front of a mirror, picking glass out of his thick hair.

“Who’re the Byers?” Steve huffed a laugh.

-

Max was standing in front of the mirror looking like a grumpy old cat.

Susan had bought her a lovely new dress, and Max fucking hated it. Susan was fussing over it, saying I ordered it from the Sears catalog! and can you believe it was only fifteen dollars?

Billy slipped a five and a ten into Susan’s purse later that day, taking the dress to the Goodwill downtown.

He found Max a couple crappy t-shirts there, bands she would hum to on the radio, shit like Journey and Foreigner, and slid them into her closet where the dress used to be.

She wore one the next day, blinking slowly at him over breakfast.

He avoided all eye contact.

-

Steve has long legs.

this was of course something Billy always knew, but watching him stalk in all his righteous fury down the street towards the high school really solidified that fact for Billy.

He was stomping, his strides long as he hustled to class. Billy thought about offering him a ride, didn’t think they were there yet.

Billy found himself in Steve’s driveway later that night, popping the hood of Steve’s dead car and searching over everything with a flashlight.

Billy rolled his eyes.

Steve had probably always paid someone else when his car broke down, didn’t realize if your oil was low, your car wouldn’t work.

Billy kept a few cans in his trunk, refilled the bad boy for Steve, making sure that was it.

He found nothing else wrong and Steve pulled into the school parking lot the next morning.

Billy could feel Steve staring at him when he walked into school.

He found Steve sitting on his car at lunch, holding the sandwich Billy had snuck into his locker, and a loaf of bread wrapped in cling film. .

Billy raised an eyebrow.

“I saw you last night.” His cheeks went hot. “Thanks for fixing my car. And all the snacks and stuff. And for the Byers’ plates. And for all the stuff with Max.”

“Nothin’s happened with Max.” Steve appraised him for a moment.

“She said you’re being nicer.” He held up the bread. “Homemade banana bread. Made it while you were being not at all stealthy fixing my car.” He smiled at Billy, one a’ those perfect sunshine smiles Billy had only ever seen Steve direct towards his kids.

“I just changed your oil. Car won’t run if you don’t got oil.” Steve furrowed his brow.

“My gas tank was full. I had just filled it.”

“Nah Pretty Boy, oil. It’s different.” And Billy took a deep breath. “Could show you, if you like. Teach you some basic car shit. How to jump, how to change a tire.”

Steve beamed at him.

“I’d like that! I don’t know shit about fixing cars. Always figured it would go way over my head.”

“It’s pretty easy. There’s usually only a few major things that go wrong in nice cars that are easy fixes. You’ll figure it out quick.” Steve slid off his car, and Billy lamented that for a minute, liked how Steve looked perched on Billy’s car, wondered how he’d look in the passenger seat, in the backseat-

Steve pushed the bread into Billy’s hands.

“Y’know, I forgive you. For that night.” Billy tightened his jaw. Steve’s eyes were a little green in the sun. “There was a lot goin’ on, and I was being sketchy. I don’t hold it against you.”

“I, uh, thanks, I guess. I’m sorry, about it.” Steve smiled at him again, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a bit.

“Yeah, I know.” Steve took a bite of his sandwich, his cheeks all cute and full. “And I’m more of a ham and cheese fan.” Billy rolled his eyes at Steve, taking with his mouth full of turkey sandwich.

“Sorry man, you get what Susan buys.” Steve laughed, his mouth still full. Billy was uncomfortably endeared by it.

“Don’t be surprised to find some lasagna on your porch one night soon.” And Steve winked at him, walking backwards towards the school. “You’re not so bad, Billy.”

“Tryin’ not to be.” Steve gave him a stupid little finger gun. Billy’s heart melted.

“You’re doin’ a good job.” And Steve set off back into the school.

#yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

[purplelurkinghini]

Narcissus by the Pond

0. PROLOGUE 

Under the cut is the prologue to yet another multi-chapter mess I am planning to write. What is different about this one is the narrator: Edward Nygma himself. Another aspect of this piece that sets it apart from the rest of my writing is its epistolary form. That’s right, baby! First-person POV!

If you’ve seen >> this << post floating around, this is indeed me actually putting that second prompt to use. 

Enjoy!

Dear ▚▛▙▙

I found a cat toy while cleaning out my closet today. It was that ashy plush mouse stuffed with dried nepeta cataria which you spent money on instead of saving up for your student loans. If he were still here, he’d be rolling around on the floor in some vivid dream in which he was a lion and it was a gazelle. And, if you were still here, I would’ve asked you to stay.

The day you got that tabby’s claws into me was the day you checked into work late. Frank, our project manager and your internship supervisor, had to drop his showman act and instill in you the fear all WayneTech employees are motivated by. After you offered your excuses and exchanged glances with the floor, you were free to enter the kitchen to heat up the coffees that you went out of your way to fetch for us each morning.  

My daily routine, which you’ve played no small role in forming during your short stay with us, was disrupted by the absence of caffeine in my bloodstream. I remember my Rubik’s cube and how I crammed a corner into my palm, squeezing down on the still unscrambled sides. I would call it an ‘absentminded’ action, but we both know that would be an incorrect assessment. My mind is never not present, even as it wanders. For this reason, when you finally came out of the kitchen, I couldn’t not wonder what happened to your sweatshirt. It must’ve been soaked in rainwater, I concluded, and that was the reason you removed it. Or, rather, that was the excuse you used as you removed it. After all, your sneakers were soggy, but you couldn't exactly walk barefoot all over a corporate. Even so, there you were, in a far too small t-shirt which was too tight around your torso and too short to cover your stomach, walking around the office with your brewed bribes. 

“Here you go, Jim” you placed the foam cup right in front of his face to get him to notice you. I’d argue that that slip of skin that was eye level to him was enough to get that scatterbrain's attention. He must’ve made a joke, or attempted to, because you laughed louder than anyone should around him. 

“Cory,” you sauntered over to him. “I asked the barista for two tablespoons and a half this time.” Sure, he might’ve taken his glasses off before taste-testing it, but his lenses were fogged-up before the lid came off. You felt the most confidence around Cory, the least confident one in our team. While no line of code was too complex for him, women were a mystery he had yet to solve. You see, I haven’t failed to notice you making the most physical contact with him, brushing your hand against his as a means of disarming him. 

After he served you a stuttered smile, you moved on to Paul who was pretending to be preoccupied with his screen. He’d been watching you since you walked out of the kitchen, yet still acted surprised when you showed up next to him. You didn’t mean to disturb him, of course, so you tip-toed around his desk, silently setting the cup on a coaster. He thanked you without taking his eyes off of his work, but took the time to watch you walk away as soon as you turned away from him. 

"I'm sorry, Ed," you pouted as you placed the coffee on top of a stack of papers. "I know like to have your coffee before 8, but the storm hit while I was in the shop and the whole street took cover in there-"

"Slow down," I released the Rubik’s cube, flexing my fingers. "I'm not your supervisor. It’s not my forgiveness you need."

"Well, no, but I actually want your forgiveness," you covered your mouth in a coquettish display. "I mean-"

“Like I said,” I brush off the blush creeping up on my cheeks. "There's no use for that." Fetching the foam cup, I take a sip of the scolding beverage and brave through it. “There's no use to ask the barista to write our full names either. This calligraphy exercise cost you a scolding from Frank.”

“Actually,” you pulled the hem of your shirt down which only uncovered more of your cleavage instead of hiding your stomach. “I wrote your name myself.”

I stroked the surface of the cup right across the script. Again, I can’t call this action ‘absentminded’ either, but my mind had wandered off again. That lovely lettering was yours and so was the green marker, so you must’ve scavenged your backpack for it on a crowded morning train. You also must’ve taken your time steadying your hand for each stroke, each dot. E. Nygma. You also must’ve cleaned up the cup as it inevitably spilled and steadied your tongue for each stroke, each lick. Maybe you ever sampled the coffee yourself, the taste of cherry Chapstick staining the rim.

“Well,” you interrupted my intrusive thoughts. “Jim’s showing me the new user interface, so-”

“Of course,” I dismissed you and my daydreams.

“Talk to you later.”

Yes, that was the day the cat got his claws into me. It was after I’d drained the drink, and found myself restless still, that I made my way into the kitchen for another one. That is when I spotted you in the corner, cradling the sweatshirt you discarded earlier. At the sound of my steps, you straightened your back, but you didn’t turn your torso towards me. 

“Hey, Ed,” you smiled and it was a painful sight because I couldn’t ignore the panic I ignited in your eyes. “Lunchtime already?”

“What are you doing?”

“Umm, trying to dry my shirt?”

The closer I got, the more gregarious you grew. You asked about what I’d like to eat, what the guys would like to eat, if I’d like to order out. You didn’t stop until I asked it of you. 

“What are you hiding from me?”

Before you could bellow out something long enough to cover the sound, I heard it.

“Did your hoodie just meow?”

It was only then that you turned, facing me fully. “Please don’t tell Frank, but this is the reason I was running late.” Two pairs of eyes were pleading with me. One belonged to you and they were begging. The other belonged to an orange ball of fur and they were unblinking. 

You were holding a bottle cap filled with water up to its meowing maw, so you must’ve been attempting to keep the animal hydrated, even after rescuing it from the streets in the middle of a storm. You bought kitten kibbles on your way to WayneTech and that had eaten ten minutes of your time and cost you a scolding from Frank.

“I couldn’t just leave Eddie to drown in a ditch somewhere.”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah,” you let it sink its little teeth into your skin as it held a single finger close with two whole paws. They feel like needles, I should know, but you carried on cooing the pincushion. “He reminds me of another green-eyed ginger. Maybe you know him.”

Yes, you remember now, don’t you? That was the moment Eddie sunk his claws into me, and I do mean it literally. He released your finger only to get his paws trapped into my button-up. I also mean it figuratively, as I swore to keep your secret the very next second. And, once you were by my side, shadowing me as I was coding like you wanted to since your first day of internship, you made me swear to keep him. How could I not? Your dorm had a ‘no pets’ policy and you had named him after me. 

The two of us had time to get acquainted after you left for your evening classes. I fed him the kibbles and was careful not to get caught. And, because I wouldn't be using it that day anyway, I replaced your sweatshirt with my gym towel. While it smelled like a sad, soaked kitten, whatever fruity fragrance you were using had yet to fade from the fabric. That evening I drove straight home as soon as I left WayneTech, skipping my daily workout. My daily routine, as I’ve mentioned, had been modified by you. 

“We don't even need to potty train him,” you giggled when you saw Eddie digging through the brand new litter box I had ordered. It had been waiting for me by the front entrance along with the delivery guy and yourself.

You got into a cab before even texting me, asking for an address only after the driver started the clock. I expected that stupid stunt from the likes of Jim, not you. 

“He's a clever boy,” I smiled when I saw you were still wearing the green button-up shirt I asked you to exchange that shrunken t-shirt of yours with. “Like his namesake.”

You kneeled before the kitten and produced the plush mouse I'd only seen Eddie play with once. “Did the shampoo arrive? He should be high enough to not scratch our eyes out now.”

After rolling around on the rug with a bag full of catnip, he seemed blissed out enough for a bath. And, after only scratching you twice as you held him for me to scrub his ginger fur ever so gently, we got him all dried and drained. Those green eyes were barely opened as he looked up at us from the cat bed he was supposed to grow into and the sweatshirt he had grown fond of. 

“Now we know he hates all water,” you said through gritted teeth as I sanitized your shaking hands. Your fingers were as fidgety as Cory's, yet I doubt his skin was ever that soft. “Not just the rain.”

“I bet he'd hate flees more,” I caressed your knuckles after bandaging the bloody bits.

“I hate the rain, too,” your eyes were downcast, much like earlier that morning, seemingly searching my sheets for something. “I never knew Frank could be so-”

“Terrifying?”

“Mean,” your giggle wasn't as gleeful as I'd grown used to. “I thought he was going to fire me right then and there.”

“He wouldn't,” I squeezed down on the shadows of your hands as they were snatched away from me. Then, I leaned in close and almost brushed your love with my lips as they moved: “He will let the anxiety that comes with that uncertainty eat you alive first.”

“See, now you're being mean,” you laughed, finally looking up at me. 

“Me? Never,” I said, satisfied with myself. You were laughing - actually laughing - because of me. 

When the dryer dinged, I was confident in leaving you in my bedroom with a smile on your face. After all, I was the one who brought you in there and I was the one who brought that out of you. Once I've collected your clothes, I returned to find you had already removed my button-up and was drying up the rest of your skin with one of my towels. You were turned only half the way, so you must've perceived me in your periphery. Paul pulled the same thing earlier today. Still, you sounded surprised as you covered the side of your breasts I bet you wanted me to see. 

"Forgive me,” I turned around, but, unlike you, I did it all the way. “Here you are,” I stretched my arm behind me to hand you the bra and t-shirt. 

“Thank you.” It was only after your bomber jacket was zipped to your chin that I dared to look at you directly. Your sweatshirt was Eddie's now, so you covered up with what you had. “For everything.”

“Let me drive you to your dorm.”

"You've already done enough," you pulled out your phone as I walked you to the door. “I'll just call another cab. Eddie needs you here. You need to wear him out, or he'll wear you out tonight.”

“Cats are crepuscular creatures,” I assure you. “Not nocturnal. I'm sure he'll fall asleep before I even turn in for the night.”

Yes, I was sure he'd fall. However, Eddie was so convinced. And, sure enough, there he was, meowing in my face at midnight. 

My mistake was letting him get his claws into me. You see, I couldn't bear waking that little bastard up. Not when he looked so small in the middle of your sweatshirt, in the middle of his bed. He finally had a dry place to dream in and I couldn't take that away from him, so I let him sink his claws into me that much deeper. 

And yours, as well.

After chasing him with my hand atop of my covers and letting him swat at the finger-spider, he was ready for bed. My bed. Yes, his green eyes were drooping when he surrendered to sleep. It just so happened that he did it on the left side of my bed. And I, not willing to risk another rude awakening, placed him atop of the pillow. Then, ever so silently, I slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. It was on my way back that I stumbled upon it: your sweatshirt. 

I recall calling it off the floor and taking it with me to bed. For Eddie, of course. He loved that sweatshirt, as I'm sure you know. However, as I placed it on his pillow, I caught a whiff of it. It smelled like rainwater, pet shampoo, Eddie, and you. It was your sweat and deodorant, sweet and soapy, just as I had smelled it on my shirt before tossing it in the laundry basket and I couldn't smell it on the left side of my bed. 

As I closed my eyes, I saw you. You were walking around the office, their wandering eyes watching you. You pass my desk and I am drenched in your scent. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. Your sweatshirt is drenched, so you discard it. Your t-shirt is too tight, so I can see the dip of your belly button and the swell of your breasts. Though I am convinced you had a bra to cover them, my mind wanders. It wanders about the color of your nipples and it paints a picture of them peeking through the flimsy fabric. 

And, as my mind wanders further, that flimsy fabric is pulled down, your hands wriggling at the hem of it. That's when those peeks pop out along with the rest. All of a sudden, you're soaking. Sweet. Soapy. You even try to hide this from me, crossing your arms over your chest. I capture your hands, soft skin, and fidgeting fingers, and wrestle with them. Oh, how easily you surrendered to me, sighing in defeat. I lock your arms behind your back with one hand and squeeze your tit like a stress toy. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. I had to taste it. 

When my tongue touched the tip, you pushed against it, filling my mouth with your flesh. You wanted this. That nipple is as sharp as a needle, but it melts in the heat of my mouth. You wanted this. After your tit is slick with my saliva and the peak is all puffy, I gather the other one in my grip and repeat. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking.

You wanted this and you told me as much. You said it loud enough for the others to hear. You wanted this. You wanted me. And, as if I haven't done enough, as if I haven't given you enough, I gave you all of me. Clearing the desk, cube, keypad, computer, and all, I slam you atop the surface. I had to pull down your pants for you, but your legs part all on their own. As for your panties, well, they all but dissolved under the duress. You attempt to hide from me again, tightening your thighs together. And, again, you surrender to me all too easily. After all, you want me. Your pussy? As I parted your legs and pushed your knees up to your chest, I saw how much she wanted me. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking.

However, I was not in a hurry. No matter how hot were your insides and how cold the chills were down my spine, I still took my sweet, soapy, soaking time. I set myself loose, my length slapping against your ass once it sprang free. You shivered, your back arching like a bow and your hands treading through your tangled hair. You wanted me. I took my time, sandwiching my shaft between your pussy lips, sliding across the slick and even wearing your labia as a hood atop its head for a maddening moment. It was only when you began begging, mewling to be mated that I gave myself to you. I crammed my cock inside of your cunt and went in so deep, I felt your heartbeat as your inner walls collapsed around me. 

Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. I fucked you into a fever, your skin as slick as your insides and your mouth leaking as much saliva as your pussy was spilling precum. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. Soon, it would've been spilling cum. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. When I did come, however, it was in my fist and not between your lips. 

As I opened my eyes, you disappeared. There was nothing there to greet me but the strike of the street lights slashing the darkness across the ceiling. Your sweetness had been replaced with my saltiness. It was indeed soapy and soaking, but it wasn’t you. Then, for the second time that night, I slipped out of bed and snuck into the bathroom.

The day you got cat’s claws into my shirt was the day you sunk your own under my skin. After that day, we shared a secret. I never told Frank about Eddie, but Eddie never told you about what I did in the dark. His glowing green eyes didn’t judge me, but they never let me forget. After you left without a notice, ginning up your internship, changing your phone number and never surrendering your real name, I couldn’t face them anymore. His eyes never let me forget, so I rehomed him.

I found your Gotham U sweatshirt while cleaning out my closet today. The name you gave WayneTech is nowhere to be found in their student records. Your name can’t be found in any police records either. Your real name, however, I am sure will uncover quite the mystery.

Yours,

E. NYGMA 

#Edward Nygma #Riddler #Edward Nygma x Reader #Riddler x Reader #It is Not Safe For Work #Riddler x You #Edward Nygma x You

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Shiitake Happens || Morgan & Deirdre

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: Morgan & Deirdre’s house

PARTIES: @deathduty @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Deirdre comes home after a party, but not in the way Morgan expects.

Under the bright lights of the murder shed, Morgan gleamed with delight. This version of the piece was coming out much better than anything she’d sketched out or tried before. The wooden foundation Ricky had helped make allowed her to fill the base with flowers and twigs, something that would look for a perfect, mushroom-free Samhain celebration. She had fastened a bit of black tourmaline to the center piece, a geometric sculpture made from tiny animal leg and finger bones that seemed to cradle the crystal as if it was sacred. Tiny chipmunk spines wove out from the sculpture and looped around the floral, autumn base. There were plaster bits marking where Morgan wanted more bones, or maybe a crystal, but this coronet was actually living up to her expectations.

Morgan checked the time and scooped up the coronet, jogging through the backyard and into the kitchen. Everything was fine. She had checked her calendar and messaged Debbie, as far as anyone could figure, everything was fine and Deirdre was probably doing...whatever she did to kill people fate had ordained, or at least witness their deaths. And she was so bad at technology sometimes, maybe she didn’t even realize she’d sent a half message and signed off. As soon as she was home, Morgan would just tell her, and it would all be some stupid, sad accident. And she would come home. Deirdre always came home when she said she would.

Moira was waiting for Morgan at the back door, mewling in welcome and giving her leg rubs before jumping to the counter to sniff around the new toy in her environment (because obviously anything new in the house was a toy to Moira). “No, no, darling, not for you!” She cooed, scooping the kitten up and cradling her as she swayed to a song in her head. “You can have all the catnip in the whole wide world, but that prototype is for your other mommy.” And just in time, a pair of headlights flashed up the drive. Morgan bounced with excitement and rushed to the stove, heating up the dinner she’d made too early in the day to pass the time. There wasn’t much occasion to be doing anything special, but with all distress around them, Morgan felt right about doing something special for her love, and it was always the most impressive, and the easiest, when it was a surprise.

Deirdre drove her car into the garage door. It was fine, she assumed, because as she rolled out of her car she noticed the dent was oddly mushroom-shaped, and everything was better if it was mushroom-shaped. She had been fighting it for so long, and when she suddenly couldn’t anymore, the revelation came to her with stark clarity: fairy rings were fate-sent opportunities. And who was she to deny the will of fate? Deirdre rolled again, tumbling over on the yard, laughing as she laid on the cool grass. She imagined she could’ve slept there, but she wanted inside her house to do away with her pesky clothes. And so she continued to roll and hop and skip to the front door, where she laughed at her silly hands as they fumbled with her keys and flopped onto the floor as soon as she managed to get the door open. The floor was cool and inviting and she could’ve slept there too if not for the burning desire to see Morgan again---a desire that ultimately proved more powerful than the allure of parties and dancing. But Morgan didn’t like the mushrooms, and even in her state, Deirdre wanted Morgan to be happy. She took great care to seem as normal--boring--as she could. “Taxes!” She yelled, picking herself off the ground and dusting off. “I just adore maths! I’m very into numbers!” Deirdre tiptoed closer to the smell of food, stifling her giggles as the hardwood creaked under her; it always did sound a little like farting, and that was funny. “I’m home, Mushr--Morgshroo--Morgue!”

Looking back, the sound of the garage door crunching under metal should’ve been the first sign that everything was going to fall apart. But in the moment Morgan had suspected, well, literally anything else. She reached for a kitchen knife, she started backing away from the windows, calculating how long it would take her to get to her iron rod, to the armory, where Deirdre might be, because Deirdre didn’t crash cars, Deirdre loved her ashton martin, as much as she loved anything material at least. She didn’t recognize the sounds floating through the door, and when she heard the keys fumbling, Deirdre’s keys, Morgan gave a desperate, animal prayer in her heart of no, please no, please don’t do this. But the woman crashed to the floor, dirty and tangled with the mess of nature, and spoke to her with Deirdre’s voice.

For what seemed like a long time, Morgan couldn’t find the will to speak. It wasn’t supposed to get bad until October. That’s what Deirdre had said. October, a month away, and maybe even more if they could be careful and vigilant and smart-- but here this woman was, so delirious on mushrooms she couldn’t even say Morgan’s name right, couldn’t stand on her feet without laughing at who only knew what. She saw the woman creeping towards the food, grilled eggplant, and some carrots and herbs in a buttery sauce. Morgan stepped aside so the woman could get to it without brushing past her. “Hello,” she said at last, the air all gone out of her voice. “D-dinner’s...almost ready. If you’d like to sit somewhere.”

Didn’t Morgan usually greet her with more enthusiasm? Well, Deirdre couldn’t tell. It was so hard to read the expressions on non-mushrooms anyway. She leaned into the pan, nearly dunking her face into the sauce as she tumbled to get a better smell. “Smells good!” She grinned, snapping up in another abrupt movement. She turned her head to smile at Morgan but her eyes couldn’t focus on her for long without trailing away in search for more interesting sights--snapping back sporadically as she continually came to the conclusion that Morgan was the most interesting sight. But she didn’t look mad, which was good. Her acting must have been good. Now she just had to keep it up. Her face scrunched as she thought of what other boring things she could talk about. “I like seats and sitting. That sounds fun. I’ll do that.” And then she dropped to the floor, crossing her legs and smiling up at Morgan. “Look, I’m sitting.” This was normal and boring, right? “Did you have fun today? Because I had lots of fun. I did so much danc--uh, taxes. I did so much taxes. Many taxes? What’s the right word?” She snapped her fingers, tongue out, trying to think. She spent so much time trying to think through her fog that she almost missed Moira pawing at her. “Mushroom!” She scooped the cat up, “you’re always naked, did you know that? What’s that like?” The cat squirmed free and Deirdre watched her leave without question. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it, and she almost didn’t care to.

Morgan continued to stare at the woman in her kitchen. The longer she stared, the more her vision went blurry and she could see the other version of this night spliced somewhere near the corner of her eye: the one where she and Deirdre were already kissing, where Morgan was prattling on about this lesson she’d cooked up for the fall semester and showing off the Samhain coronet she had started, placing it on her head with a kiss and taking too many pictures. Morgan watched the scene play out in her head while she waited for the woman in her kitchen to move, do something even approximate to what Deirdre would do. But it was just ‘taxes’ and ‘fun’, like she didn’t even know what it was that made Deirdre interesting or wonderful. But there she sat. At least Moira had the sense to slink off. “I had a nice day, yeah,” Morgan mumbled. Had. “You can tell me the truth, you know. You don’t have to keep saying ‘taxes’.” She added, taking one of the plates she’d set out and arranging the meal as nicely as she had the strength to. Fetched the flatware and the nice napkins and set it all down before the woman. Her smile was so bright, so much like the one Morgan wanted to see, she looked away and crossed the kitchen to busy herself with the sink. Deirdre wasn’t going to be able to do them tonight, so she might as well.

“I’m not lying! I never lie,” Deirdre’s stomach protested at her assertion, and her will to hide these reactions diminished with the hold the mushrooms dug into her. She stared at her food, stabbing it with her fork and reenacting the screams she imagined the vegetables were making quietly to herself. In reality, she wasn’t hungry, but she knew that boring people ate food. Then Morgan stepped around her and towards the sink, and Deirdre felt unsettled with something that ate at her core. She picked up her food and utensils, setting them aside on the counter. “I do that,” she said, watching Morgan with the dishes. “I do those.” She could remember just that much about it, motivations eluding her. She continued to stare; Morgan’s shape was vaguely like a mushroom. If those parts there were cut off, and her hair was fluffier, and if she was sticking out of the ground instead of in the middle of a cold and uncaring kitchen. She needed grass, Deirdre knew she’d be just right in the forest, among the flowers and mushrooms. “Are you mad at me?” She asked after a moment, picking at the t-shirt she stole off another party goer. “But I’m being boring for you. You like that, right? I’m doing what you want.”

“Yeah, I just um…” Morgan winced and went stiff over the sink. “I figured you wouldn’t be up to it tonight.” You know, because your soul got sacrificed to the mushroom gods and now I’m dealing with your toddler mushroom shadow self. She turned up the water and started scrubbing. It wasn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of the woman’s questions, but Morgan wished it was. Was she mad? It wasn’t like Deirdre could fully control herself even around the scent of these godforsaken mushrooms. They ruined her mood, her train of thought, even without being near them. “I’m not mad,” she rasped. “I um…” She grimaced, head bowed, and did her damnedest to smother the tears in her throat. “...Deirdre’s not boring. She is anything but boring and you should know that. And I can’t have what I want right now, so I think the next best thing is for you to just be yourself. Does that sound okay? ...Babe?”

“But that’s my job!” Deirdre raised her foot to stop down, hovering in the air as her tantrum died just as quick as it came. Instead, she watched her toes, wiggling them around, giggling as they moved so strange. Those were the very same toes that danced between blades of grass and weaved over gnomes and around leprechauns. Now they were wiggling in the air where she held them. She stopped listening to what Morgan was saying, choosing to hop around on her foot. The mushroom fog around her didn’t care much about love or relationships, it demanded fun and what was the most fun to her now was hopping. Until it very quickly wasn’t and then she searched their kitchen for other ways to entertain herself. “She is,” Deirdre responded coldly, inexplicably harsh. “She’s so whiny and stupid. Like a little baby. She cried so much before the ring, like she didn’t know how good it was. But that’s not me. This is me.” And this Deirdre wanted fun, or else she was going to go create some for herself. It was then she noticed a curious trinket against their clean marble counters. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands, eying the delicate bone work but not for the sake of appreciation, but to try and see if any of them might be shaped like a mushroom. None were. “What’s this?” She asked, but she had already put it on her head.  

Morgan dropped the dish she was holding. “She what?” But Morgan had heard the woman just fine. Deirdre had cried, fighting, because this wasn’t who she was or what she wanted to be, because this wasn’t what their life was supposed to be like, and because she did care about Morgan more than the fucking mushrooms that hijacked her brain and-- “Did someone make her get in? Was she forced?” Morgan turned around, clinging to the thought of Deirdre’s last lucid moments as if she could rewrite it into something different if she had enough details. “The real Deirdre is wonderful,” she said, voice hiccuping. “Of course you don’t understand-- no! Put that down!” Morgan ran for the bone crown and jumped to take it back. “It’s not done, it’s fragile, just put it down!”

“Yeah, she was all like ‘no please, I don’t want to go! I’m Deirdre and I’m a loser’ or, you know, whatever.” Deirdre spoke with indifference, running her fingers along the counter. She had just begun to drum them to a beat that’d been stuck in her head when she caught Morgan lunging at her and easily sidestepped with a giggle. That was it. That was the fun she had been looking for. “Aw! Look at your face! You look so scared it’s cute!” She laughed, light on her feet as she danced around. “If you want it,” her mouth cracked up into a challenging smirk, “you’ll have to chase me for it.” And that was exactly what she wanted, ducking around furniture and laughing all the while. She wanted a game, and she was going to make Morgan play one with her. “Come on,” she teased, taking the garment off to wave it around in the air. “Here, zombie. Here! Here!”

“No! No games!” Morgan cried, jumping for the crown again. “You give it back to me right now! I swear to the fucking stars--” Morgan didn’t finish that dangerous statement, but growled, teeth bared with frustration. “What the hell do you want? It’s not done, it’s not even for you!” Morgan clambered up the couch and launched herself from it in her chase.

“But you love games!” Deirdre laughed, swaying to soundless music. Morgan was angry, and that was suddenly very funny to her. The mushrooms told her all about the importance of mischief, and all she’d wanted in the moment was to share in it with Morgan. “But it’s mine now! So it’s all for m--” She hadn’t been expecting Morgan to come at her so quickly, and Deirdre spun in surprise, the piece slipping from her grip. Yet, even in her state, she could tell that was bad. She lunged at it, too clumsy with her movements to hold it properly in her hands again as it bounced between her fingers and palms as she scrambled to catch it. Eventually it settled in her grip, teetering dangerously just above the ground. “Oh,” she laughed, “that could have been bad! We don’t want to break this so soon, right, Morgshroom?”

Morgan stumbled to a halt when she saw the crown topple. For a flaming second, it did not matter what face the woman in front of her wore, she would snap her wrist wrestling the crown away if it came down to it. And she laughed, delighted, threatening, and careless. Morgan slumped where she stood. “Tell me something you want instead.” she said, eyes fixed on the spot where the crown had almost shattered. She could see the world splitting open again, the one where it cracked and broke, the one where she let her temper consume her and hurt what was left of the woman she loved, the one where they were having dinner in the great room with Moira begging for scraps between them. And here, this nothing space, with the woman Deirdre had been turned into laughing at her. Morgan grit her teeth. “Maybe, if I like it, hypothetically, you could get a deal.”

Deirdre considered this, tapping her chin and waving the crown around in her pinched fingers. She liked deals, and this game of chase was quickly becoming boring to her. “But you won’t marry me,” she said, mulling it over. She knew this because she asked last time, and Morgan wouldn’t do it. She knew this because something inside of her said it was true. It was the same something that was begging her to stop, but that she would not listen to because it was the part that was boring and that kept her away from the mushrooms in the first place. She wanted mischief and mayhem, not whatever idyllic domestic scene normally played out between her and Morgan. “Hm.” Deirdre looked at the crown, tapping it with her fingers and flicking the more delicate parts to test its resistance to her force. Then the world faded away and it was just her and this crown and its alluring fragility. She could snap it. She thought about that. She pressed it into her palm, hearing it splinter for her. She could throw it to the ground. She thought about that too, waving it around in the air again to test its weight. Now, suddenly, she was interested in a different game. “What would you do if I broke this?” She asked.

Morgan clenched her fists as her temper flared inside her again. Horrible things she could not do because Deirdre was going to come back into this body, with the body’s memories, and Deirdre hadn’t wanted to leave her in the first place. Morgan breathed through her teeth forcing them aside and trying to think of something better. “Well, I wouldn’t entertain any more of this nonsense, for a start.” Her voice ground out the word with all the others she wanted to say in its stead. “You want to lose the rest of your ‘fun’ here? Is that it?” Morgan trembled; she was no good at this and she knew it. “Just give it back to me. I’ll consider doing something else you want, just give it back.” She held out her hand. “Please.”

Deirdre watched Morgan with a callous gaze. Somewhere inside of her, she was begging too. But this wasn’t like the mushrooms before, these ones were angry. They wanted to create pain just as badly as they wanted pleasure. For a moment, annoyed that Morgan would stop her from having fun, she had to remind herself that she could find her games elsewhere. After all, she still wanted to see Morgan happy. “Why date a fae if you’ll reject the mushrooms so cruelly? This is very important to me.” Deirdre stepped closer, gripping the crown tight--sure enough that if Morgan tried to snatch it back, it would snap in twain. “This is very important to the culture. The mushrooms are like...whatever you humans do. I don’t know. I do know that you’re being really mean right now.” If she had enough sense, she’d realize how ironic she sounded. Deirdre stepped closer again. “I just want some fun, Morgshroom. That’s all. I want us to have fun. I love you and I want that.”

“Deirdre said she didn’t like the mushrooms,” Morgan whispered. “And you said she didn’t want this to happen to her. It can’t be that important...you can’t say it's more important than, what, being her whole self? A sense of sanity?” She shrugged helplessly. “I’m not even human, thanks. And I guess I just...yeah. Fine. I didn’t expect to see you tonight and maybe I was dumb enough to hope that I wouldn’t have to see you again at all. Fuck me. I’m a horrible, stupid person.” She folded her arms over herself and finally forced herself to look up into the woman’s eyes. She cringed inwardly at the mention of love coming from her but made herself ask the question even as her voice cracked and choked. “What...kind of...fun?”

“Oh, I mean, you’re practically human,” Deirdre shrugged right back, slumping as Morgan continued. “Stop. Don’t say that.” Her voice turned sharp. “Don’t say that about yourself.” And then it eroded away into urgent gentleness. “Please don’t say that. You’re not dumb. You’re not horrible. I love you. Don’t say that.” The mushrooms wanted mischief, they wanted malice, they wanted--- “Please?” Deirdre slipped the crown on to her head---for safekeeping---and leaned in to peck Morgan on hers. “Look! We’ll play a different game! Don’t be sad!” She gripped Morgan’s cheeks and pinched them as hard as she could, forcing her mouth up into a smile. “Lookie! We’ll have so much fun!” Then she took a large, sweeping step backwards and pulled the crown off her head. “Let’s play catch!” And then, with as much warning as she didn’t think to muster, she threw the garment into the air--more or less in Morgan’s direction, but her sense of space was warped.

Morgan’s tears fell past whatever self control she had left as the woman’s voice turned gentle. It was the kind of voice Deirdre would use, the kind of urging she would give to her if she was desperate enough when Morgan was down in her pit. Morgan couldn’t help but scrutinize her face with uncanny wonder. She knew the truth, that it was hopeless until the mushroom drug wore off, that she was kidding herself if she thought the woman she missed could surface for a moment to comfort her. And yet-- The woman’s fingers pinched her skin and Morgan shrank away. It was just a fucking coincidence, and she was just really fucking sad.

And  then the crown was flying in the air. “No!” Morgan ran backwards, tripping over her feet to get to it in time. The bone coronet grazed her fingers and she fumbled it into her grasp as she hit the floor, closing her eyes with a moment's relief when its full, unbroken weight settled against her chest. The prototype was fine and, eventually, she would be too.

Deirdre hated watching people cry. It made her chest tight and something in her stomach flip uncomfortably. Watching Morgan cry though, was far worse. She ached with every piece of herself and she didn’t know why. Now she was desperate to show her a good time. She had to. Morgan needed to be happy, this was as universal a truth as ‘mushroom good’ and ‘nudity also good’. “Good catch!” She jumped up and clapped, then began gesturing for her to throw it back. “Now me!”

Morgan got to her feet, slowly and painfully, even with her body’s invulnerability. “No,” she grumbled. “Something else, okay? I’m going to put this somewhere safe. When I’m done we can toss other fragile or sharp things around the house even if it is a health hazard.” She went to the safe behind the painting and climbed onto the chair beneath it so she could reach without straining herself. “Or maybe hide and seek, if you go find somewhere to be...now?” She prompted, gesturing with the crown for her to run along. She wasn’t keen on the mushroom woman having a clue about where the precious things in the house were, even if they were just letters and one sad, stupid bone piece.  

But among watching people cry, watching them refuse to play was also gut wrenching to Deirdre, though in a much different way. It wasn't a profound sadness that claimed her, but a complex anger. And then she watched Morgan move towards her safe. "That's where I keep my stuff," she said, as if trying to recall it for herself. "I have to keep it there so no one can find it." She moved towards the zombie. That safe carried her most delicate treasure; the torn and burnt letter Morgan had written her. The letter was too frail to be rustled around, even when Deirdre came back to her safe every so often to re-read the letters. "The last time someone found out about it, they hurt me." And she watched Morgan, with great disregard to Deirdre's tiny treasures, think about opening her safe without double-checking anyone was watching, without seeing if there were tiny cameras fitting into the bone of her crown. Did she just want it there to hurt Deirdre again? Logic and reason came to Deirdre strangely now, and she considered that even someone who loved her like Morgan was subject to harming her. "No!" And so she lunged, gripping the other half of the crown. "You don't get to go in there! That's mine! Why can't we have fun?"

“Someone hurt Deirdre, I know,” Morgan said soberly. “But I am not her mother. And I am only interested in keeping this safe until the real Deirdre comes back.” She waited for something to sink in, for the woman to get distracted by something shiny. She had only just come back from the mushrooms, she couldn’t possibly remember the combination. If Morgan could just slip the crown in fast enough. “Hey!” Morgan tugged back. “Deirdre gave me the code, she knows I have a right to be there!” She pulled again, with both hands now to support the fragile piece. “Please, just let me put it away. We can do something else, I’ll do something else with you! I’ll do it!”

"I am Deirdre!" She screeched, cracking what few glass valuables Deirdre trusted to keep around them. "Why do you keep saying it like I'm not! That's me! You just don't like me, do you? You don't like fun! You're a human!" The word dribbled out of her with venom and pain. She didn't quite understand it, she didn't understand much like this, but all she could see was a woman who was supposed to love her, hurting her. "You don't have any right! Those are my things! Morgan gave me those! And if you can say I'm not Deirdre, then I can say you're not Morgan!" And for all this mushroom addled Deirdre knew, it could have been some very convincing clone she was talking to. That would explain why Morgan was being so mean to her. She wasn't even this mean last time. "It's like you care about this crown thing more than me," she sobbed, then tugged. She could break it. Deirdre thought about that until it twisted itself into an intoxicating prospect. Breaking things was fun, right? And yet, her body resisted the action. She gripped the piece tighter, using both her hands. Now if either of them tugged too hard, the thing would shatter. "You're being very disrespectful to the mushrooms right now and they don't deserve that. They think I'm the real Deirdre. They would never do this to me. They're kind and inviting and if you'd stop being such a meanie for two seconds and come with me to a fairy ring then you'd know—but no, you want to be a real H-word instead."

Morgan went stiff as tiny cracks ripped throughout the room. Her eyes flickered around the room, assessing the damage. The bone skeleton had a shiny new skull fracture, the snowglobe she’d commissioned from Nic was too far away to show any obvious damage, but not leaking was a good sign. “Sshh! You don’t have to do that,” she whispered. She let go and climbed down from the chair, backing away, her hands raised in surrender. “Look, it’s yours now, okay? You have it. And we c-can...do something. Fun.” None of her words were especially convincing. Her insides were coiled up with fear that the woman would destroy their home if she was upset enough, her eyes were stinging as she called her a human, a distinction she was growing to resent even before she said the word like it was the worst thing she could think of. But Morgan tried to force her mouth into a smile, an effort that only lasted for a second and felt morbidly inappropropriate, and hoped for the best.

Finally, Deirdre had it. She raised the crown to imagined fanfare, dancing around the great room and singing an ode to mushrooms in Gaelic (that went more or less "mushrooms are great, mushrooms are good"). Yet, Morgan didn't seem as happy. Deirdre watched her, halting her steps. And then, dancing around with the crown didn't seem all so interesting anymore. She glanced at its design work, delicate but obviously hand-made. It was unremarkable, because it didn't have any mushrooms. The only thing she could think to call it was junk. Why would Morgan be lugging a piece of junk around? If Deirdre had enough sense to think on it, she might have figured it out, but she didn't. "You know what, Morgshroom?" She glanced up, letting silence consume the room. The clock's incessant ticking remained the only relic of the passage of time between them. "I think I'm bored now." And she tossed the crown behind her, shattering it against the hardwood. She skipped merrily away from the scene, looking for the next grand mushroomless venture the two could partake in (she just had so much trouble thinking about ways to have fun with the mushroom-phobic Morgan).

All the sense of time and probability Morgan had lacked when the woman first came home caught up to her now, two late. It was only five seconds of silence and in that time, Morgan felt it with the same crushing certainty she’d felt her mother’s punishments. There was nothing to do, no one to call for help. She closed her eyes before the woman even threw the crown to the ground. She did not open them again until the snap of it shattering had stopped echoing in her head. The woman was long gone by then. She could pick up  all the separated vertebrae and the snapped ribs and crushed flower buds in her own good time, pausing to stare and cry as much as she needed before taking the mess she’d cradled into her skirt and creeping upstairs to hide.

Finding cans of paint in the garage, Deirdre skipped back into the great room; idea in mind. "Morgshroom!" She called out, dropping the cans of paint to the floor. "I finally figured out how we can have fun!" But she got no response. She looked around the room, trying to find the woman. When she couldn't, she started looking under furniture and out the windows. "Morgan?" She lifted the table, wondering if she was there. She turned to the kitchen, opening up cabinets and drawers. "Morgan?" She crawled up the stairs, searching around corners and cracks. Finally, Deirdre started to grow concerned. Her concern created a moment of clarity, a moment she used to bring herself to their bedroom, hovering awkwardly at the door. "Morgan?" She asked the trembling figure on their bed. "Are you okay?"

Morgan had just enough energy to arrange the pillows in a vaguely Deirdre-body length and shape before crawling onto it, draping her arm around the middle and imagining that she was being held and comforted. It was a level of pathetic desperation she hadn’t reached in a long time, and her stomach twisted with guilt as she reminded herself this was just for a week. A week. Seven days, starting now, if she could pull herself together and stop sobbing like some little girl who’d had her dolly or her car keys taken away she could handle this. Seven days wasn’t that long at all, especially in the grand scheme of things. And it wasn’t like Morgan was still having nightmares. She didn’t need to be talked down from the ensuing panic attacks or distracted from her nerves. If this had to happen, why not now? Morgan continued to think, trying to rationalize herself out of her tears, but sobs continued to bubble up from her chest. No amount of fist clenching or logical thinking could distract her body enough to forget that Deirdre wasn’t here, and would not return no matter how she begged the stars until the mushroom toxins were out of her. The ground had vanished beneath her again and like a child who refused to listen, Morgan could never grasp that this was the true way of things.

She whimpered at the sound of the woman in the doorway and tried to wipe her face clean without getting up. “I’m….I’m fine,” she squeaked, her throat still soaked with tears. “I’m sorry.”

Morgan was in distress, and though Deirdre could only attribute this to her mushroom-hate, her desire to soothe her was no less strong. She inched closer to the bed. “Am I bad?” She asked, wondering for a moment if Morgan’s agony was her fault. No, she reminded herself, this was just what people who didn’t accept the mushrooms looked like. But that didn’t matter, all that mattered to her then was getting Morgan to stop crying. She sat at the edge of the bed, staring at their carpeting, lost in the pattern of the weaving. “Did I hurt you?” She looked to Morgan for the answer, then decided if she was crying, that was confirmation enough. Deirdre crawled beside her, slowly wrapping her arms around her quivering form. “Don’t be sorry. The mushrooms don’t like apologies anyway, not from you. You don’t have to.” Distantly, she remembered that Morgan liked a tight hold, and she pressed harder around her. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Morgan’s body broke open with another sob as the woman wrapped her arms around her. It was everything she wanted and it was all wrong. If Deirdre were really here, she wouldn’t be crying in the first place and there would hardly be a need for questions. But Morgan was so tired inside and in the dark, with that familiar voice gentle and reaching for her heart as it grazed her ear, she didn’t have the strength to push her away. Morgan clamped her arms over the woman’s and pawed around for her hand until she could lock their fingers together tight. She pulled the woman harder against her curling then both up like nested shells. Their bodies fit like they always had; Morgan could even hear the slow drum of the woman’s heart. “I know you’re just here. I know you didn’t do anything besides just be here. It's not your fault, but we— I was going to surprise you. We were going to be happy, and you didn’t even come home.” She swallowed down another sob, shivering. She brought one of the woman’s hands to her face and kissed her palm, squeezing it as tight as she dared. “I was awful, I know I was being awful, but I just want you back. Please come back to me...”

Deirdre opened her mouth to explain again that she was here, that she was home and that she didn’t understand what Morgan was crying about. She felt like a child again, holding up Danny’s dead lost dog and asking him why he was so mad at her about it. But she didn’t have the mushrooms then; the mushrooms made everything clear. And they would do the same for Morgan too. “Morgshroom...can you do something for me?” She asked softly, “take a bath. Really hot, like you like to. Then come down.” With the mushroom’s help, she would set this right. All she needed was some time. “Use bubbly soap, because you can kind of shape that into a mushroom and I know looking at some mushrooms will calm you down. It calms everyone down.” She squeezed Morgan tighter. “Okay? Can you do that, my shroom? My lovely fungus?”  

Of course it had been stupid to speak to the woman as if she was really Deirdre, but it had almost been like relief for Morgan, with the pressure of her body just right and their forms twisted around each other in the way they’d memorized. Even the suggestion of a bath wasn’t a bad one. The real Deirdre would get in with her and they would soak and read the poetry book they kept by the tub if they weren’t up to other means of passing the intimate time together. But that didn’t make it a bad idea. A little burn on her skin, a few minutes submerged head to foot with everything wet and quiet… When nothing else helped, the water was always ready to hold Morgan until she was ready to surface again. Morgan deflated, releasing her hold on the last trickle of tears she was holding in. “Okay,” Morgan whispered faintly, relaxing her grip and turning around to huddle against the woman’s body. “Okay. I can try to do that.”

Deirdre had been occupied with picking Morgan’s tears with her fingers and trying to paint mushrooms on to their sheets with it when she heard her agree. “Huh?” She perked up with confusion, forgetting the suggestion she put forth. “Oh, right! Okay, so you go do that.” Deirdre picked Morgan up, running her to their bathroom with urgency--the more time she spent carrying Morgan, the less time she would have to prepare for the mushrooms. She dropped her carefully into their ornate tub, pressing a kiss to her forehead before she skipped away with the same speed she’d come in with. The mushrooms would solve this. The mushrooms would make Morgan happy.

Time was a strange construct, Deirdre wasn’t sure how much of it she’d spent pushing furniture around into a circle (it had to be a ring), painting red mushrooms on the walls (there had to be mushrooms), lighting candles and setting the right music to play after much fumbling with a speaker she didn’t know how to use (all equally important to what needed to be done). She could not bring Morgan to the fairy ring, but she could bring the fairy ring to Morgan. She would not go so far as to pluck mushrooms from their homes to supply in her mission, but she pulled from their garden to weave Morgan a flower crown better than the dumb one she seemed so obsessed with. And while it lacked the intricate bone work, Deirdre took one of her raven skulls and affixed it to the front. Good enough, she thought, and certainly better than the other thing. At least it was to her mushroom brain. Deirdre had even gone so far as to change into one of her old dresses from Ireland, a piece meant for the traditional summer celebrations, now worn to keep a modesty she didn’t exactly care about, but hoped Morgan, in all her foolish mushroom hating, would enjoy. Now all that was left to do was spin around their great room, moving in tune with the gentle music and watching as the light fabric of her dress swished around. It was all the glory of a fairy ring without the fairy ring part, which wasn’t all the glorious. But it would be enough.

Morgan stayed in the tub for over an hour, until the last sensation of the water’s heat faded and she’d worked her soap and bubbles down to the quick. Nothing had changed, but she at least felt like herself enough to come downstairs in her pajama shorts and shirt. There was nothing left to ruin and she could start on a new prototype tomorrow. She could talk to the woman and indulge her for a little while in the evening without biting her head off or falling to pieces. “Hey…” She called softly. “I’m all scrubbed clean if you wanted to negotiate doing—oh, stars above.”

The mushroom paintings were hideous, but strangely they were the least striking image in the whole room. There was the furniture for one thing, rearranged and piled into a giant circle. Then the candles, strewn around so thickly, Morgan was reminded of the romantic paintings she’d ogled as a girl. And the woman, dressed in gauze and summer, beaming and excited by the playlist she’d started from Morgan’s digital library. It was even playing her favorite song. Morgan swept her eyes over one more time, trying to catch it all and make sense of it. It wasn’t their home, their room, but there was something careful in it, even beautiful.  “I don’t understand,” she said, looking to the woman for answers as she came closer. “What’s all this…?”

Deirdre spotted Morgan, flashing her a brilliant smile as she paused her dancing. “Come,” she urged her, giggling as she approached. She placed the flower crown atop her head quickly, eager to begin with their makeshift fairy ring night. “Wait--wait. I wrote this down.” Deirdre glanced at the smudged writing on her hands, having prepared a good speech while she waited patiently. “Dear Morgshroom, I know you are---” But the writing was sloppy and, with all her dancing and furniture rearranging, very smeared. “---’dad’. But I think you’re very ‘birdful’. Anyways, here’s mushrooms. Love, ‘Doobie’.” Deirdre grinned, her--clearly very romantic--speech over. “I made you a fairy ring!” She exclaimed, explaining herself finally. “It’s not as good, and we can’t get married here, but I know it’ll make you feel better.” She grew very nervous suddenly, unable to find the same excitement about her plans. “Do you not like it?”

Morgan didn’t have any tears left in her, even for sentiment’s sake, but watching the woman take up a thoughtfully written letter for her and recite it surrounded by candlelight made her ache even in the harshest parts of her spirit. All of this was for her. The composition of the circle, the music, even the woman’s dress. And it was all so...very Deirdre, in a rudimentary way. Morgan couldn’t help but come closer to her, looking for an explanation hidden behind her eyes or in the lines of her palm.

“I like it fine. It’s lovely, even,” she said. But that wasn’t what she wanted to talk about. There was something uncanny even in the woman’s smile, familiar, frightening, and irresistible.  “Are you—” She reached out for the woman’s face, her fingers glossing over the air just above. “Are you really in there somewhere, Deirdre?” Morgan stepped closer, awed and afraid by either answer, by the hope rising in her throat. “Did you...remember us, when you did this?”

Well, at least Morgan wasn’t crying. That was all Deirdre could’ve wanted really. It wasn’t the excitement she was expecting, or the convincing she thought would push Morgan into agreeing to come to the mushrooms---but it was good. “Hm?” Deirdre smiled, breaching the space that Morgan was afraid to. She closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around Morgan’s waist. “We can dance slowly, if you want. It’s better like this sometimes. Not so much for real fairy rings, because that’s boring, but for this one that’s okay.” The music was a little too jovial for their swaying, but Deirdre hummed her own slow tune instead. “I’m always in here,” she said, looking at Morgan curiously. “I don’t get what you mean when you say that. I’m always me, except sometimes I’m the boring me. And I always remember us. That’s why I want you to marry me.” But she paused for a moment, deeply considering what Morgan was saying. “But it’s only a week, my heart. And then it’ll be better. Will you wait for me?” The moment was gone just and quick as it’d come and Deirdre began tugging at Morgan’s shirt, petulant but far from demanding. “Oh! You’re supposed to be naked! That’s what makes it a good fairy ring.”

The woman moved into her arms and suddenly Morgan’s hands were grazing her cheek on accident and her arms were around her shoulders and under the musk of the woods she could smell Deirdre, earthy, crisp, and sweet as a cherry tree. Fainter now, like the scent was hiding in a shallow grave. “I’d like a slow dance kind of fairy ring, yeah,” Morgan murmured, stepping closer and settling into the private rhythm the woman was setting for them. She smirked in spite of herself as the song changed and a slower one she cherished almost fit their secret dance perfectly. Some things fit even when they shouldn’t, like their bodies, with so many inches between their height it annoyed Morgan some days. But she could rest her head so easily against her chest and hear that low heartbeat that lulled her into calm during the night.

“You’re different right now…” Morgan whispered. “You’re so different you don’t even like who you usually are, and that’s my favorite person…” She gave the woman’s body a squeeze. The closer they were, the more easily she could trick herself into believing everything would be alright. “But you’re really...you’re a little here, Deirdre?” She spoke her name as a supplication unto itself and pressed her lips to her shoulder, waiting out the silence as the woman thought. “Oh, my love, my pulse…” She nodded fervently; rising on her tiptoes to whisper in her ear. “I’ll wait for you. I love you. Please... oh!” She stumbled onto Deirdre’s foot, thrown off course as she pulled on her. “Right. Um...for you, for our ring, I guess I go topless, at least. But you’re wearing a dress, I’d like to add, even if I can practically see through it.” She pulled off her shirt in one fluid movement and offered a smile, small and tentative but no less sincere as she kept her eyes on this other Deirdre, still searching, reaching for the parts she knew.

“I never like who I usually am. Except for this me; this me is always happy.” Deirdre commented absently. The mushrooms did not allow for pain or question, with them, a simple life was always guaranteed. For so long, it was her only way to connect with the fae who would otherwise shun her for her flatback. But she couldn’t explain any of this to Morgan, any of how important the rings were to the fae, she didn’t like them. And if she’d already decided to hate, then there was no point to argue. Besides, Deirdre didn’t much like wasting her time on anything that wasn’t being naked or dancing. “Well that’s just because there’s supposed to be other layers under it, but I didn’t want to wear them--obvs.” But she delighted in the sight of Morgan’s top coming off, not only because the naked sight of Morgan always delighted her, but because nudity was the way of the fae. “Yay! Boobs!” She scrambled to take her dress off, pulling and kicking it off until she was fully nude. “Now the party can start!” She reached for Morgan again, pulling her close until the were flush together. The best way to enjoy nudity was together, that as something the mushrooms had told her once. But more so, it was something she knew to be true because of Morgan, and how happy she made her feel. She was like her own fairy ring; she didn’t need to be a mushroom to set Deirdre’s heart aglow. “I’m always here,” she whispered, before losing her train of thought to how happy she felt. “You’re magic, you know that? You like a real mushroom, and just almost as pretty as one. I wish you liked the rings more, because I want to show you what’s so wonderful about them, but I can take this for now.”  

Morgan pressed a chain of kisses around the Mushroom Deirdre’s neck, weaving her way upward to her jaw. She wasn’t sure how fae it was of her, but the skin under her lips was so familiar, it made Mushroom Deirdre’s whisper sink and settle inside her. “Give me a week, babe,” she said. “Stay with me a week and then we’ll see. Wait with me til then.”

#wr deirdre #wr chatzy #wr deirdre chatzy #shiitake happens #wickedswriting

[mosylufanfic]

On a Wednesday, in a Cafe

<sidles in> ahem so.

I meant to have this done for Valentine’s Day. I really, really did. But then I didn’t. I don’t know what to tell you. But hey, it’s still February, I haven’t finished eating my giant heart-shaped box of chocolates, and I ship these two dum-dums the whole year round so I’m going to slap it up here anyway.

Title from “Begin Again” by Taylor Swift

On a Wednesday, in a Cafe

"Hi, welcome to Jitters," the barista said when she walked up to the counter. "Decaf chai latte from the app, right?"

"Right. Thanks." Caitlin forced a pleasant smile onto her tired face and reached out for her drink.

But instead of handing it over, the girl said, "Look who's here!"

Caitlin blinked at her. It had been a long day and she really just wanted to sit quietly in a corner  and unwind before going home and to bed.

But the barista waved a hand. "Look!" she said insistently.

Caitlin turned her head and saw a man sitting at her usual table. She started to be annoyed, but something throttled the emotion before it could fully form. She knew those shoulders. She knew the sheen of that dark hair, even if it was caught back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. She knew that broad-palmed hand that lifted to tuck a stray lock behind his ear. She even knew that huge hockey bag down by his feet.

"That's your friend, right? You guys always used to be in here together."

"Right," Caitlin said faintly. She took her drink and walked over to the table. "Cisco?"

His head whipped around, and she knew that smile too, even if it was buried in a thick, dark beard. "Caitlin! Hey!"

He leapt up and hugged her. She hugged him back, the solid feel of his body against hers feeding some hunger inside her.

He let her go first, and she made herself release him. "I literally just texted you," he said. 

She pulled her phone out and saw his message glowing on the screen. Just got into the CC, it said. Can I crash with you for the night?

She looked up. "Of course you can. You don't even need to ask."

He grinned. "Thought maybe I should check. Just in case you had a, uh, a guest already."

She felt her cheeks heat. "No guests," she said. "Not for awhile." Nobody but you, she almost said, and felt herself blush hotter. 

He looked at her for a moment, and then said, "Well. Good."

She popped the lid off her drink and stirred it absently. "So," she said. "How long are you in town this time?"

He'd been gone for months, on the road checking out what had changed after Crisis. He would upload his findings to the Star Labs database and stop into Central City for a day or two when his path took him there. The last time, he'd stayed with Caitlin.

"I think," he said slowly, "that I'm back for good."

She looked up. "For good? Really?"

"Yeah, I've hit all the major cities with a meta presence. Think I got a handle on what's changed now. We'll probably still get the occasional shock here and there, but the project's done as far as I'm concerned. And - " He met her eyes. "It's time, you know? I took my break."

She put her hand over his. "You know there's a high chance you'll run into Kamilla. She still works with Iris."

"Yeah. I know."

"How are you doing?" she asked.

The night it had happened, he'd texted her. It's over. We broke up. I can't stay here. Can I crash on your couch?

She'd texted back of course immediately. 

He'd come over with a bottle of vodka and no information other than that long distance had been too hard on their relationship. He'd asked to watch Star Wars ("original trilogy, obvs"), and had only cried a little, when Princess Leia told Han Solo she loved him and he'd said he knew. 

He'd been gone by the time she'd woken up the next morning, her sofa bed folded up and the blankets and pillows stacked neatly on the cushions. 

They usually texted when he was on the road, and when he video-called, it was to the cortex because he'd learned something everyone needed to know. So it had been hard to gauge how he was handling the breakup, and when she asked, he just texted back that he was handling it okay.

He did look okay. Not nearly as wrecked as he had been after Cynthia. Of course, it had been two months.

He met her eyes. "I'm doing okay," he said. "I won't lie, being out of Central City really helped."

"Your stuff is all in storage," she said. "Kamilla packed it all up for you."

"I know. She sent me the address of the storage place. And the bill, which is fair." He toyed with his phone. "I did a lot of thinking. A little drinking. And, uh, for future reference, 'I'm in town for a week and I'm newly single' is apparently, like, Tinder catnip."

It hit her like a thump in the chest, and she pretended to take a sip of her latte to cover her baffling reaction. 

They'd talked about their sex lives before. Not in graphic detail or anything, but she'd always known when he was dating or had an FWB or having a dry spell, just like he had with her.

Of course he would have had a few hookups. She should have known he would. That was one of his breakup go-tos, along with drinking more than he should and watching the angstiest, most dramatic telenovelas so he would have an excuse to cry. 

"Hey," he said, and she looked up. "I know what you're thinking."

She felt her cheeks heat. "What's that?"

"Yes, I was safe, and yes, they were nice."

That hadn't been even close to what she'd been thinking, but she went with it. "Well, good. That's all I ask."

His smile faded. "How's, uh, how's she doing?"

"I haven't seen her much," she said tactfully. "It would be awkward, you know."

"Right."

"But Iris says she's doing okay."

Iris had also added that if she never heard that one Lizzo song again, it would be too soon, but Caitlin didn't share that.

She bunched up her napkin and made herself drop it, smoothing it on the table. “Are you going to let her know you’re home?”

“I should,” he said, scratching at the edge of his beard. “Just as a heads up. Maybe we’ll get coffee or something, just for closure. But that’s her call.”

She was quiet a moment more, but he didn't seem to be up for talking about it. She thought closure and realized again that they really had broken up. Somehow it had been hard to believe it.

"So, how are things around here? You mentioned Frost and Sue were getting into it a little.”

“Oh, adjustment pains,” she assured him. “You know how Frost doesn't like new people in the group, and Sue is kind of like a cat, in that if someone doesn't like her, she makes it her mission in life to annoy them. It’s much better now. They've worked it out."

"Yeah? Really? What happened?"

"I don't have all the details, but judging by the hangover the next morning, tequila shots were involved."

"Just tequila shots?"

"Sue pleaded the Fifth and so far there's not a warrant out for Frost, so I thought it best to leave it there."

He laughed. "So otherwise, how is the famous Sue?"

She started filling him in on all the ways that Sue was tying Ralph in knots, and how much he was enjoying it, while acting like he wasn't. As usual with them, they found more and more things to talk about, until their drinks were stone-cold and they were the only people in the cafe.

She looked across the table at him as he was telling some story about his time in Gotham, and thought I missed you. 

They'd had long stretches of separation before, like after Ronnie had died the second time or after Savitar. But this was the first time it hadn't been due to some trauma, and the first time they'd kept in touch. She'd started to live for the buzz of her phone, and more than once Barry had called her out for sneaking a look at her texts when they were trying to brainstorm about the enemy-of-the-week.

The night he'd broken up with Kamilla, she'd stared at the ceiling for close to an hour before she was able to make herself go to sleep, wondering why she had butterflies in her stomach, and why she kept thinking about him asleep in the next room, and why the door between them seemed so thin and the distance between the sofabed and her own bed seemed so short.

It would have been a bad idea, she knew that. Bad timing. But somehow she couldn't come up with any reasons not to do it besides that.

The barista started wiping down the tables near them, and she checked her phone. “Oh, they closed half an hour ago.”

“It’s fine!” the girl chirped in the tones of someone who’d been instructed by corporate not to ever kick someone out. “You stay as long as you like."

"No, we should go." Caitlin got up and tossed her cup into the trash. Cisco followed suit and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. She tried not to stare too openly at the flex of muscle in his arm as he did so.

The night was warm. He'd left in early February, hat crammed firmly on his head and mittens enveloping his hands as they said goodbye at the train station. She'd looked away from him kissing Kamilla and wrapped her arms around herself against the snowy morning, wishing as she always did that Frost could share some of her temperature imperviousness. 

Now, they strolled down the street, just the two of them, in the balmy evening. The steam-heat of summer lurked on the horizon. 

After nixing the idea of a taxi - "I've been traveling all day. Be good to stretch my legs. Unless you want one?" - Cisco was quiet. They'd turned down her street when he said, "So there's something I didn't tell you earlier about my Tinder dates."

"They weren't nice?"

"They were. But I made it sound like I had a bunch and actually I only had one."

She looked at the sidewalk, pretending she had to pick her way across perfectly flat and clear concrete. "You can have as many or as few Tinder dates as you want," she said. "It's really none of my business."

"They were nice," he persisted. "And I had fun. But I also felt kind of . . . empty afterwards. I'd gotten used to sleeping with someone that I loved, and just sex was like whipped cream without the hot chocolate. Still a good time," he added. "But not really satisfying, you know?"

She took that in, staring at the sidewalk. "Are - are you thinking of getting back together with Kamilla?"

He shook his head at once. "No. We were good together for awhile, but we had good reasons to break up."

"But you thought she was the one."

He was quiet for so long that she looked up, half-dreading his expression. But he just looked sad and pensive.

"You know, I think I wanted her to be the one," he said. "I wanted it so hard that I stuck with us way past our natural expiration date. And it wasn't good for either of us." He looked away, brushing his hair back. "But about a month into my trip, I started to realize that I missed - " He shot her a look. " - other people more than I missed her. And after that it was like things just started unraveling."

She felt her face heat and her heart thump, but he was talking again. 

"So, no, I'm not getting back together with her, and I'm pretty sure she'd feel the same if I asked her."

"So you're going to start looking again?" she asked.

He was quiet for a moment. "Being on the road, you know, it gave me a lot of time to think. Time to look at my life from the outside. Figure out what was making me happy and what wasn't. I worked some things out."

"Good," she said. "I think you needed that." It was why she'd made the suggestion in the first place, no matter how much she'd missed him.

"And I got to see a lot of people who'd had different lives before Crisis."

Her mouth fell open. "Did you vibe?"

He shook his head. "Mostly my powers are still gone. But every so often something did happen where I'd look at someone, and I'd see their other lives, and I'd see where the path - " He waved his hands. "Where they sort of branched. Where one version made one choice and another version made a different one.”

"Wow," she said, because she couldn't think of any other response.

"Like, it was all chance which version won out, you know? Sometimes they were living their best life and sometimes their worst one and - god, this was a mindfuck - sometimes they were living one that was just as good. It wasn't the same, but it was just as good."

"That's pretty wild."

"And you know, a lot of times it was down to the stupidest little things like whether they braked for a yellow or not. But sometimes it was something big, like deciding to marry someone or move or take a job."

She frowned at him. He was rambling, and she couldn't completely follow his train of thought. "Well, yes."

"I know, I know, life's like that sometimes. We all know that. But seeing it like that really made me think, you know, about all the big and little choices I've ever made in my life and how just changing one of them could have changed everything and, you know?"

"Y . . . es," she said slowly. She wasn't sure she did, but it seemed important to him.

"And then I started thinking how I've still got time. We've all got time, right? We've got all the time in the world until we're dead."

"That's a little morbid."

"I know! I know. But, like, we have all this time, right? But we just spend it doing all the things we always do, in this rut, complaining about our lives and not actually doing anything that might change them. And then we keep saying, what if, what if."

If she hadn't been with him for the past two hours, she would have suspected him of being a little drunk. Instead, she cocked her head. "Cisco, how long have you been awake today?”

"I slept on the train," he said. "But do you get what I'm saying?"

"I don't think I do." Her heart was thumping heavily in her chest, dark and slow with dread.

What if he wanted to leave Central City? Or even just Star Labs? He’d said he was home for good, but what if he’d just meant he was done with his tour? What if he wanted to take off all over the world? 

He rubbed his hand over his hair and muttered, "Okay, I - okay. Look. I'm saying I missed you."

Well. That wasn't what she'd expected.

She tucked her hands in her pockets. "I missed you, too."

"You did?” 

“Of course I did. You’re one of my best friends.”

“Friend,” he echoed. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Long time now.”

“What’s it been, eight years?”

“Something like that.”

“So of course I missed you.” She unlocked the front door of her building and held it open for him. “I’m glad you’re back.”

He put his hand on her arm, stopping them in front of the mailboxes. "Do you ever think about that? About how our lives would change if something was different?"

"Who doesn't?" She searched his face. "Cisco, what are you getting at, exactly?"

His mouth opened and closed for a moment, and then he let out a soft groan. Before Caitlin could do anything else, he'd taken her face in his hands and kissed her.

For some reason, the only thought in her head was that kissing a man with a beard was surprisingly nice. Or maybe it was kissing Cisco that was nice. More than nice.

Oh. 

Oh.

Cisco was kissing her.

He let go before she could get her jumbled thoughts in order and retreated a step or two. "Shit," he said. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to just - like that - I - "

She grabbed his jacket and hauled, and he stumbled back towards her until she could kiss him back. He was much faster on the uptake than she was, and it was only a moment before his arms wrapped around her. 

Sometime later, his forehead rested against hers. "So," he said, eyes closed, "that's okay then."

"Very much okay," she said.

His hands skimmed up her sides and then down. "Every time my phone buzzed I grabbed it. Hoping it was you.”

“So did I,” she whispered.

He smiled at her, eyes bright. “I know the timing is weird and bad. But it’s always been weird, bad timing with us. That’s why I never did this before.”

She found herself smiling goofily. “You wanted to do this before?”

“More than once. A lot of times.”

“So we have some catching up to do.” She kissed him again. 

Someone cleared their throat, and Caitlin pulled away from Cisco to see one of her neighbors looking judgemental at her for making out with a strange man in the middle of the lobby. "I need to get my mail," she said.

“Sorry,” she lied to Mrs. Trainor, not sorry at all, and scooted a few steps down.

“Hey Mrs. T,” Cisco said. 

She squinted at him. “Cisco? Is that you?" She'd seen him reasonably often, and Cisco was the kind of person who could chat amiably to neighbors that Caitlin had never said two words to. 

“Yep. The beard threw you off, right? I’ve been traveling and it was easier than shaving every day.”

She looked a little mollified. “Well, welcome back.” She looked between them. “Nice to see the two of you finally got it together. Only maybe not in front of the mailboxes.”

Cisco snickered, and Caitlin elbowed him. “Sorry about that. We’ll get out of your way. Have a good night.” She grabbed Cisco's hand and tugged him toward the elevators.

He gave her a delighted look. “I think your neighbor’s been shipping us!” he whispered. 

Caitlin hit the button. “And to think all this time I thought she just had the hots for you, asking about you so much.”

He snickered again. “No reason it can’t be both.” He turned serious. “So, I’m still staying?”

She blinked at him. “I said you could.”

“Yeah, but that was before,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything. I can crash at Barry and Iris's place. Or get a hotel.”

She took that in and smiled. He knew as well as she did that inviting a man you’d just kissed into your home was a different thing than letting your friend stay for the night. “It’s fine,” she said as the elevator doors slid open. “I don’t feel pressured at all.”

He took her hand, smiling back. “Good. We can talk this out. Figure out how this is going to work. And then kiss some more.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” she said, hitting the button for her floor and sending him a coy look. “And if we both feel like it, maybe we can have some hot chocolate.”

FINIS

#Caitlin Snow #Cisco Ramon #killervibe #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #apologies for any inaccuracies #I haven't seen the latest episodes #the flash

[flutistbyday2020]

I Almost Do

A/N

This is a song fic based off Taylor Swift’s “I Almost Do” (follow the link to listen). She owns the song and Suzanne Collins owns Katniss and all other characters. I’m just borrowing them for a moment. This takes place after between the last chapter and the epilogue. Almost AU.

Word count: 900 ish.

“Catnip,” Gale whispered, staring into my eyes. “I missed you.”

“I never went anywhere,” I responded.

“I know, but it seems like I never see you anymore.” His voice was low and filled with desire.

My heart pounded in response.

I sat straight up; sweat was beaded on my forehead.

It was just a dream.

It was late at night, maybe one or two. I hadn’t bothered to check the time when my third dream had woken me up. I glanced over at Peeta, and he was fast asleep. A small smile came to my lips as I watched his even breathing. Peeta has no idea how much I love him.

The moonlight spilled in through our window as I slipped out of the room, down to the kitchen to grab some hot chocolate. I slipped silently down the stairs, and was enveloped by the silver beams of moonlight. They danced around me as I boiled water, and leaned against the kitchen table. I felt guilty for where my mind was slipping, but I can’t help it.

I miss Gale.

I bet this time of night, he’s still up. Stressed from getting District 2 back in order. Tired from a long hard week. I bet he’s sitting in his chair by a big window, looking out at the city. My heart started pounding as it toyed with a new idea-- I bet he’s thinking about me. No, I couldn’t let myself dare to think that. I can’t afford to think things like that. I have Peeta, right? Even though I didn’t deserve him, Peeta was still here.

As I poured my water from the kettle and searched for the hot cocoa mix, my mind wandered to a conversation I longed to have with Gale. How it takes me everything not to call him. How every night is a battle, how every time something gets hard for me, or things get difficult between me and Peeta, how I want to call him and hear his advice. I want him to know that every time I don’t, I almost do.

I almost do.

I sighed heavily and sat at the table. I could hear Peeta stirring, and I know that he sensed my absence. The bed creaked and I knew that he was coming to check on me. He knew that some nights, my nightmares are only satiated by hot cocoa and time. He lumbered down the stairs uneasily. Three years later, he still is bad on his leg. Another small smile appeared on my lips. He joined me at the table, pulling a chair close to me and took a free hand.

“What was it this time?” His gentle blue eyes searched my grey ones.

The smile disappeared as I remembered the terror that flooded my veins. “Prim was with Rue. I had to save one of them.”

He subconsciously rubbed my hand with his thumb. He understood. My mind drifted back to Gale, and more guilt immersed me.

I bet he thinks I’ve moved on or hate him. Whenever Gale called, I would tell Peeta to either ignore it or tell Gale I’m not home. I’m too much of a chicken to talk to him. We ended as soon as Gale chose District 2 over me. Every what if was sent into the wind as soon as I got that letter.

I snapped back to reality when Peeta told me that we should go back to bed. I look down at my untouched cocoa and hold the mug up a few inches to indicate that I want to finish it. He nods, and heads back up stairs. Thump, thump, thump. Yet another small smile.

I sighed as the smile faded. Gale and I had quite a mess, but Peeta so willingly helped me pick it up. Now that Peeta was no longer present, I let the guilt show on my face. My dream really wasn’t about Prim and Rue. In my dream, Gale and I were sitting on a chair in the moonlight. I was sitting sideways on his lap, and we were talking easily. He looked up at me, brushed a few loose strands of hair back, and whispered, “I love you, Catnip.” And then he asked me if I wanted to try again with him.

And I almost do.

Again, like waves rushing over me, I want to call him and tell him that I want to run to him, and how badly I want to talk to him; how badly I want our friendship back. And I hope he knows that every time I don’t, I almost do.

I finished my cocoa, headed back upstairs, then laid next to Peeta. He protectively wrapped his arms around me. He knows I’m fighting back my most inner thoughts, although he’s not quite sure what those truly are. I sighed and scooched closer to him, letting his warmth bring me closer to sleep.

Yes, I bet this time of night, Gale is still up. I bet he’s exhausted, worn out, and almost grumpy. I bet he wishes he could be out in the woods, hunting--doing what he does and loves best. I bet he’s exhausted from a long work week. I bet he’s getting ready to head to bed, and I bet he’ll take one more look at the city out of his big window by his favorite chair.

Do you think of me as much as I think of you?

#the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #gale hawthorne #peeta mellark #jennifer lawrence #mockingjay #mockingjay part two #peeta x katniss #team peeta #katniss x peeta #katniss x gale #gale x katniss #katniss hunger games #peeta #peeta hunger games #gale hunger games

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Alpha!Midoriya x F!Omega!Reader | Late Bloomer

May I please have a so-called beta Izuku (dormant alpha) having his first ever rut sending his omega fem s/o into heat then things seriously escalate to NSFW territory from there? Maybe Izuku's hormone (testosterone) levels increased after winning a fight causing him to present (just a theory on why). Beta x omega would be taboo in omegaverse right? I also could totally see Izuku as a late blooming alpha. Thank U~

Warnings: fluff mostly! NSFW! It’s not noncon this time I swear! Dom!Deku

Hand holding with your boyfriend was your favorite part of walking to school together. You always were comforted with his fingers intertwined with your own. It made you more than content. You knew it was odd to others that you felt that way about a beta, but there was just something about having a sweet boyfriend who doted on you regardless of whether he had a strong scent or a knot.

Today, you were also feeling extra cuddly. You crooned and cuddled into his side, rubbing your scent into him as you buried your head to get any amount of his freshly cut grass scent in your nose. You cradled his arm against your chest, pulling fitfully while he blushed and stammered at the treatment and odd looks the two of you received.

Midoriya knew you couldn’t help your behavior though. For some reason, you tended to rub up against things around the same time every few months ever since you were pre-teens. It was a nightmare for your parents since you’d go around doing it to other kids, hugging them for far too long in a vice-like grip. He finally figured out why early on in your relationship though when you suddenly stopped attaching to friends and family and solely stuck to using him as your plush toy.

The overdose of affection was just a sign that your heat would come in a few days. It wasn’t unheard of for omegas and alphas to have pre-heat and rut signs: cramps, heat flashes, increased aggression, possessiveness, or nothing at all. He was just lucky that you had clingy. Even without being an alpha, he could really get behind this side of your omeganess. It was just so cute!

However, it was still a prelude to a bittersweet time that he didn’t know exactly how to feel about. Midoriya loved how sweet and needy you got for him when usually you were fairly independent. How you would cuddle him and run your hands through green hair. He couldn’t get enough when the two of you finally got alone.

Then, there was the leeward side of your heat.

The one where you doubled over in pain if you went without suppressants. It never seemed like he could properly satisfy you enough to kick you out of your heat early. It wasn’t that his size was the problem, he was surprisingly well-endowed in that department for a beta, or your pleasure since you always cried and spasmed around him each time, but rather his lack of a knot. Then, he was afraid that having sex might only serve to make your heat stall and last longer. So, you had to power through until it naturally declined and disappeared.

Midoriya couldn’t stand those days. It made him feel useless, and he couldn't really figure out what made you sign on for that when you started dating him at first. Two years later though, you were still here and cuddling into his side blissfully.

You had arrived at school early and decided to head to the canteen for breakfast. Your table was empty as you awaited the rest of your friend group to show up, but that didn’t matter to you since you were too busy feeling up a flustered bean and snuggling into his hair like he was your personal catnip.

“Deku~ you’re so flufffyyy,” you giggled as his hand shook around his spoon, milk and cereal spilling back into the bowl. You weren’t the only one who noticed the behavior as two burly older boys spotted you from the table over, amusedly watching the display of an omega in obvious pre-heat mode.

“(N-Name)-chan, you need to calm down, we’re at school,” he stammered, blush intensifying.

“No,” you cooed and licked his cheek, and he had to stop himself from falling over the edge of his seat in his embarrassment.

A laugh could be heard from the next table over. “Having trouble over there, buddy?” the taller of the two boys asked.

”Don’t let her jump you now! No still means no for omegas, too,” the other jokingly added.

“N-No, it’s fine!” Midoriya answered, pushing you down a little to stop you from climbing on top of him right there. “I got it covered.”

The two laughed, and the shorter one decided to invite himself over to your table to strike up a conversation or perhaps enjoy breakfast and a show. He stops though upon closer inspection. Your scent dominated over Midoriya, his completely erased with your own.

A scowl etched at his lips. “Are you two dating?”

“Mhm,” you hummed and inhaled deeply over Midoriya’s scent gland, too preoccupied to worry about the slight sneer the question was asked with.

“That’s just precious,” he said with a soft smile in your direction. Izuku smiled weakly and rubbed the back of his head, feeling a bit shy about the compliment until he opened his mouth again to mockingly state, “You must be the sweetest little omega to want to cozy up to a beta like that.”

Izuku tensed, smile dropping to a scowl. You followed suit, holding onto him, but your expression was less than friendly. Your good mood ruined.

The taller alpha tilted his head, furrowing his brows, his eyes squinting in thought. “No wonder she’s going crazy, she’s probably starving on beta cock,” he thought out loud, a genuinely confused personification of the “but why tho” meme, then addressed Midoriya, “Do you even know what to do with her?” he asked curiously.

”It’s none of your fucking business, piss off,” you grunted, hoping they’d drop the subject.

“We don’t mean anything by it, we just wanted to make sure you’re getting treated right,” the other says matter-of-factly, saving a softer tone for you than the scornful one he held for Midoriya.

It didn’t matter whether they meant offense or not. They caused it immediately when Midoriya pursed his lips and went quiet as he retreated into his own head.

You pouted, heart aching and anger growing at the way your boyfriend bowed his head. His hands clenched at his pants legs, and his teeth sunk hard into his bottom lip. You hugged your arms around his waist and settled your chin on his shoulder. “Just ignore him, Izu, he’s just jealous that the only action he’s getting is with his hand,” you say, throwing a sharp glare at him.

“What did you say to me, omega?”

Midoriya scowled. He clenched his fist as their attention directed towards you. He could deal with himself getting harassed, he’s had years of training in that department dealing with Katsuki and the other kids in middle school, but—

“You heard me, knothead. No one invited you over here in the first damn place,” you mouthed off again and gave a low growl.

—he was never one to let someone else get bullied or unfairly talked down to, especially not his girlfriend.

“Who the hell do you think you’re bucking at?”

“You, fuckface. Now back off before I lose my fucking temper.”

“Seriously, you want to fight? You have to be kidding me, your parents must be fucking dying at having a butch omega for a kid, no wonder you can't get an alpha,” he spats, and it’s the threatening growl that sets Deku off. He stood in front of you, arm held out low where you sat.

“Who do you think you are—talking to her like that! You don’t know anything about (Name) and don’t deserve to. You’re angry, acting out because you’re afraid to see people not feeding your ego by following your rules, and you can’t face the fact that no matter what you are; at the end of the day she still wouldn’t choose someone like you!”

You scowled behind Midoriya, glaring down at the intrusive alpha the same way Izuku did. There was a silence in the air for the few tables around you as they looked on, ready to see any sort of fight.

A fight is what they got when the resounding hit of a punch rang out, and you jumped up with a gasp as Midoriya stumbled back, clutching his hand to his nose. “Deku!”

“I’m fine!” he growled, swiping the back of his hand to wipe the blood away from the wound given to him. “It didn’t hurt!”

“You felt nothing yet, runt!” he spat and geared up to punch Midoriya again to show him how much his punches “didn’t hurt”.

You knew Deku was much smaller in frame than some of the other guys. You were a bit worried when green eyes met yours, but you had to remind yourself that even though he was small, he had muscles under that uniform blazer and could fuck someone up if need be, and everything burning inside him at once told him it was needed, much more so than usual as he blocked the punch and tackled down his rival.

Midoriya won’t deny the satisfying feeling and rush of power when his fist contacted bone and cartilage. It all went blank then. He ran on pure instinct, blocking out the yells and jeers around him. He kept enough sense to not use his quirk, but that didn’t slow him down from fighting with his own strength even after a hit broke through his barrage and nailed him in the face. Caught off guard, he was flipped over onto his back, becoming the submissive fighter now.

“Izuku!” you called to him, and his heart raced as you got closer to tear the bigger boy off him. You grabbed under one of his arms and moved to pin down the other, but his elbow came back mid-punch and nailed you in the cheek, and you backed off with a hissed, “Shit.”

You didn’t seem obviously hurt or much fazed by the hit other than your shock, but it didn’t matter when you got touched, when this asshole thought he could get away with that, to Midoriya’s omega.

Midoriya growled and thrusted the alpha off before pouncing to straddle him. “You’re going to pay for that!”

You winced with each hit, you’ve never seen him with that type of aggression. “Hey, Izuku…” He wasn’t paying attention. He was almost acting like a feral if you didn’t know better. It wasn’t normal, and you finally had enough when you heard the weak whimper from under him. “Izuku! Stop, I think he gets it!”

You grasped onto Izuku’s back, hugging him a little. He paused when your arms wrapped around him and your scent hit him so strongly for the first time in his life. He breathed heavily, gulping down at the bloody face under him before he gasped and quickly scrambled up onto his feet.

You pulled Izuku closer to the crowd, as he panted and calmed with the feel of your fingers slipping between his own. The taller Alpha ran up to his friend, kneeling and patting his cheek to coax him back to the conscious world. He groaned, and you were a bit relieved that he opened his eyes, even if he deserved it.

His friend smiled weakly before chuckling out at the bruised face of the student on the floor. “Dude…that little guy fucked you up.”

“Shut up, you dumbass!” the alpha cursed, popping up as the other students laughed. “You just fucking sat there and let it happen!”

“I thought you had it, really.”

You grimaced, holding onto Izuku tighter as you wondered what just happened. You didn’t have much time to consider it when you saw long black hair and a tired, irritated face breaking through the crowd.

Fuck.

The two of you sat alone in your desks in an empty classroom. You sighed, hating in school detention. You were supposed to be learning some really cool things in class today. Instead, you and Midoriya were both being punished. You didn’t use your quirks, so it lightened your sentence to three days of detention.

You glanced to Midoriya, still rigid at his desk. His nails dug against the edge impatiently. His expression tense and he himself silent, only groaning a bit when he would drop his head to his desk and rub against his forearm. You sighed. This is all that assholes fault.

Midoriya’s tension wasn’t from that though. He was more concerned about the boiling in his blood that had him physically sweating under his collar. He long tore off his blazer and undid a few buttons. Fighting for control, he focused on trying to keep his breathing steady, but oxygen suddenly felt too thick to swallow down while his stomach kept aching each time he inhaled your suddenly heavy scent. Always, you said your scent was like coconut, specifically the milk, and he never realized it smelled so good in his life until now, especially as you scooted your desk closer to his.

“Hey, I’m sorry I got us in trouble, Midoriya,” you mumbled and placed your hand on his shoulder. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m fine,” he huskily drawn out. You blinked at the deep, heavy voice given to you and leaned over to get a look at his face.

Midoriya didn’t know why he was suddenly thinking it now, but you looked good with your hair a little messy from the events of the day, and your thighs widening out against your seat, giving an exaggerated sense of fertile feminine curves. Your lips looked good enough to kiss and bruise red with bites right about now. He just really wanted to bend you over the desk and pound you raw until—shit, what is he thinking. You’re in school.

But when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and start your cuddling procedure again, your frame firm but soft against him, those thoughts all go out the window.

Midoriya reached out and clasped your face suddenly. You were pulled into a rough, uncontrolled kiss. Instead of growing more passionate, it started that way, hot and heavy as his tongue glanced over you.

“D-Deku?” you questioned, eyes widened as he pulled away and protectively slid the flat of his tongue across your cheek where you were hit like you were a preciously wounded animal that he had to take care of. You didn’t reject the attention, in fact, it was exciting, but you pushed away because of the odd behavior. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I-I don’t know,” he growled lowly against your lips, and you were shaking at the dropping octaves. He kissed you again, a bit more conscious and steadier as he stood and gripped your shoulders. The desperate grip almost hurt, but your whimper was swallowed down with hungry lips. His hold fell down your shoulders, rubbing up and down your biceps, slightly more comfortable. His chest rose heavy. Rapidly, it rose and fell against your own as he pulled away before rushing back to bite your bottom lip.

“I love you so much, (Name),” he whispered and smothered your neck in kisses.

“I lo—” you couldn’t get a word in edgewise as he kept kissing you, “ve, y-you, too,” you moaned and tilted your head. He took the opportunity to mark your neck, one spot at a time, though it didn’t take long to have a ring around you with the desperate speed he went at you.

“Deku,” you gasped when he fully squeezed your breasts through your school uniform, folding the fabric of your blazer in his hands before hastily undoing the buttons of both it and your shirt underneath. The ones that break off in his rush, lightly clacker against the floor and roll away to hidden corners.

Izuku pulled you up out of your seat, cupping your ass and hopping you up higher on his waist before settling you against the desk. “(Name), grind against me,” he demanded, nipping at your ear. You gave in easily to his demand, rocking your hips against his rock-solid cock. And fuck, you don’t know what’s gotten into him when he kisses and bites at the exposed tops of your tits but you’re not complaining when the smell of grass fills your nose again.

It was so…strong and heady and...Alpha.

So tantalizingly alpha as it mixed with something else your vaguely recognized. It had your body flooding with familiar hormones that had slick soaking through your panties. You didn’t think your heat would start so soon, you always had a few days in advance, but he was driving you mad. Your alluring smell only made him buck harder, and you yelped in his ear.

“(Name)-chan, you smell really good,” he said and tightened his hold around your back to get you physically close as possible. You think if he could melt into you, he would, and you’d gladly do the same.

He knew he was bad for your heat, but he couldn’t stop himself from pulling at his zipper and thrusting his pants midway down his thighs. You quickly sat back and did the same with your panties, letting them slide down your ankles. You didn’t bother to waste time kicking them off. You both needed each other now.

Your body trembled, and you gasped in the pleasure of having his much-needed cock inside you, immediately pulsing and ramming all the way back in one fluid jerk of his hips. “DEKU,” you screamed into his shoulder as he gripped on your hips and repeatedly buried himself inside your desperately clenching cunt.

You held onto him, bouncing back against the desk as he thrusted up into you. You always felt good during sex with him, but this time felt different in an exciting new way. From his sudden dominance to his thick scent, or guttural grunts, you didn’t know which and didn’t care as you finally kicked your undies to the floor and wrapped your legs around him. The room filled with the slapping of skin and smell of raw sex as your juices flowed in between your legs, squelching with every thrust. It was drowned out by both your moans as Izuku snapped his hips into yours, refusing to pull out of you for long before stretching you back out and making you cry with the quickly building force of your orgasm.

Something foreign drew against your body. It pressed against your entrance and ground against you with the rock of his hips. It wasn’t quite big yet and you moaned as it slid into you, locking for a moment before he pulled back out. You vaguely wondered if he was about to knot you.

It had to be impossible.

You whined as he pulled out of you, breathing heavy as he tried to catch his breath. You only had a small amount of time to gaze down at the base of his slick drenched cock. You clearly saw the bulb of his expanding base there. “Deku,” you breathed out, the dark look in his eyes said he’d figured it out, too.

“I’m sorry, (Name),” he huffed out, and you were unsure why he would apologize before he suddenly flipped you over the desk and onto your stomach. You cried out as he plunged back into you at a jackrabbit speed. “I-I can’t stop,” he apologized, squeezing you tighter as he closed his eyes and got lost in the feel of your walls hugging tight and wet around him.

Being bent over made everything squeeze and he felt twice as big going back inside you with one hand gripping your hip to tug you back against him and the other gripping the edge of the desk to steady himself as he pounded into you.

You felt pleasantly numb, as you buried your head in your arms to muffle your cries as you came around him. His first knot took a bit of time to swell up right, but once it did, you skipped past cloud nine, ten, and all the way to cloud 99 as it beat at your aching pussy before giving you what you needed—a full cock and knot burying balls deep inside you. Midoriya groaned, stilling and resting his forehead against your back as he spilled against your cervix.

“I’m sorry, (Name),” he panted, rubbing a sweaty forehead against your shoulder as he gently rubbed his fingers through your hair. “I didn’t know it would happen this way.”

“It’s okay, i-it felt amazing,” you sung out. “I didn’t think people presented so late.”

Midoriya nodded, not that you could see that or the bitter smile that followed. “I can finally make your heat go down now,” he commented jokingly, but you recognized the self-deprecation and the distance that rode on those words. Midoriya hated knowing at the end of the day, he was never able to make you this relaxed during without a near hour of build-up. He was relieved he finally could, but it also nagged at his mind that he really wasn’t good enough when he thought he was a beta.

“Deku, y-you know that didn’t matter, I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. It never mattered to me if you were an alpha or not, I just liked you because you were you and you made me happy,” you reassured him, wishing desperately that you could see his face more clearly as you turn your head to the side and look up at him from the corner of your eye. “And like you said, I’d would’ve chosen you over an alpha any day,” you smiled sweetly, and his cheeks darkened. “So, will you please kiss me now? I can’t really do it bent over like this.”

He nodded and pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips, gently combing through your hair in the meantime as he waited for his swelling to go down. Midoriya smiled weakly and rubbed his wrist at wet green eyes. He had no idea how he managed to get so lucky in life to have you. “I love you, (Name).”

“I love you, too, but I think we have some time to make up for,” you teased and rocked back against him again, making him moan as you spasmed around his knot.

“(Na-Name), you can’t do that so suddenly. I’m still not used to this,” he hissed and rutted back into you. “S-Shit,” Midoriya growled as his knot loosened and slipped out of you.

Watching you leak with a mix of your cum, he immediately burned with a foreign desire to knot you again and again. Fuck. He supposed he would have to spend the next few days in detention learning something. Practicing on fucking you through your heat seemed like the perfect lesson.

You licked your lips, wantonly, and refused to slow down as you wiggled against his lap. “I need your knot, Deku,” you whimpered, and his blood began to boil again.

“I-I won’t hold back then,” he replied before gripping onto your waist and giving you both what you needed.

#midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #deku x reader #izuku x reader #omegaverse #adelssmut #notsfw #bnha midoriya

[firethatgrewsolow]

Swiss Time - Chapter Twenty-One

**Thanks for reading and hope you like it! The clock is closing in ... <3 PS - expect fluff :-)**

We’re off, Nattie. I suppose it’s a good thing that you didn’t want to come, considering you were near comatose when I came downstairs to say goodbye. There’s water and aspirin on your nightstand and orange juice in the refrigerator, courtesy of Christian. I would have let you suffer.

Natalie shook her head at the evil smiley face her aunt had drawn. Christ, she was definitely suffering and pretty certain that at some point her head was going to explode. She crawled out of bed and snatched up the aspirin, knocking them back with the lukewarm water. Grimacing, she returned to her nest, pulling up the covers around her as she continued to read.

We likely won’t be back for close to a week, so please take care of Duchess. Change her water every day, and make sure to wash the bowl. Her food is in the pantry, along with her brush and some of her toys. Her favorite is the little pink mouse. Make sure it’s filled with catnip at all times. And don’t forget her music. She enjoys classical, but only in the morning. In the evening, she prefers jazz.

Nat rolled her eyes. The cat got better treatment than she and Christian did. Her annoyance faded away as she heard a faint mewl next to her, and she bent over, smiling as Duchess sprang onto the bed. Running her fingers through the kitten’s soft gray fur, she turned her attention back to the note.

You should be set in terms of groceries as I had extra delivered before the party, but feel free to order more or dine at the hotel. Just charge it to Christian.

Natalie’s stomach grumbled. A good sign in the midst of the worst hangover she’d ever had. At least she could still eat. The aspirin was beginning to work, as well. Maybe she’d actually live through the day.

Okay, that covers it. You have our hotel information should you need to contact us. Have a wonderful, relaxing week, darling. Oh, and one more thing. Apparently, you spoke to Robert on the phone last night. It was a rather animated conversation. At least, what I caught of it, which unfortunately was only about half.

Nat stilled. She’d spoken to Robert? Oh, shit. She replayed the evening, what she could remember of it, racking her brain for a clue about the conversation. Did I call him? Or did he call me? Surely she’d not given in and phoned him. Oh, God. She breathed a sigh of relief as she read the next line.

In case you’re wondering, he called you. Anyway, after a rather interesting exchange, you told him to ring you at 3:00 sharp. Today. Given your state last night, I thought I’d remind you. Love to you, sweet. See you when we return.

Natalie’s eyes darted to the clock, her heart pounding. 2:58 … 2:59 … 3:00 She warily shifted her gaze to the phone on her bedside table, its silence a blaring warning of yet another broken promise. Still, she waited, hopeful. One minute ticked by, then a second, and then a third. By the fourth, the familiar pang of disappointment washed over her. By the fifth, she gave up, her eyes welling. What did you expect? He never comes through. She stood, squaring her shoulders as Duchess scampered under the bed. Fuck him. Get on with the day.

She was due to meet a group of friends at the Christmas market later that evening, but her desire to go had been vanquished. She padded to the french doors that led to the patio and pushed them open, taking in the glorious view. Even with a chill in the air, it never failed to uplift her, the sublime beauty of the nature around her like a tonic that could cure all ails. Except today. Stretching, she determined she needed another tonic - hair of the dog and a soak in the hot tub.

Natalie headed to the bathroom, shedding her clothes along the way. She brushed her teeth and pulled up her hair, splashing cold water on her face to wash away the night. Satisfied with what peered back at her, she grabbed a towel and made her way toward the porch, freezing mid-stride. She glanced toward the ceiling, certain that she’d heard something upstairs. Or someone. Wrapping the towel tightly around her, she tiptoed to the landing, tilting her head. She waited a beat, and then another. Silence. Finally convinced all was well, she whirled around, slamming into what felt like a wall. She shrieked as she realized it was human.

“Whoa! It’s just me ...” Robert trailed off as her towel hit the floor, his eyes sailing up and down her completely naked form. He barely registered her scowl and the swift smack of his shoulder as she scrambled for the wrap.

“Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?”

“Well, hello to you, too, Nat.”

“How the hell did you get in?”

Robert gestured to the french doors that were wide open. “Nobody answered upstairs so I came around back. It was … open.” His eyes traced her frame as his mouth curled up. “Do you always traipse around so scantily clad? Aren’t you worried about your neighbors?”

“Apparently, I need to be more worried about random English miscreants. And I was about to get into the hot tub.”  Nat cocked her head. “You didn’t answer my question, by the way. What are you doing here?”

Robert chuckled. “What do you mean, what am I doing here? I told you I was coming. You didn’t really think a simple phone call would do, did you? Not after the conversation we had.” Natalie opened her mouth, only to close it, and Robert narrowed his eyes. “Wait. You do remember last night, right? Our conversation? The things you were saying?” His voice cracked on the last syllable.

“It’s, um, kind of hazy.”

“Are you bloody serious? Fucking hell, woman.”

Her eyes widened. “What all did I say?”

Robert barked a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You likely wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

“Was it bad?”

He expelled a breath. “No, I’d say it was rather good.” Robert nibbled his lip as she stared at him, bewildered. “Nevermind. Christ. Anyway, it seems that I’m here, I suppose unexpectedly. I can’t stomach another two hours on the train, and I’m bloody well starving so I’ll have to sort it out tomorrow. If that’s alright with you.”

The adrenaline from her initial fear had given way to that of elation. He’d come to see her. He was there in the flesh, just for her. But what was it she’d said to make him drop everything and come running? Flashes of the previous night flickered through her head as if his physical presence was jarring them, conjuring them. There had been the phone call, that she could recollect … she’d chastised him for not knowing about the fire … then she’d teased him about the article, losing her virginity, she’d joked, and then … Oh, my God. It all flooded back at once, a dam breaking in her mind. Jesus Christ. What had she been thinking talking like that? No wonder he got his ass on a plane. She fought the crimson burn that crept across her cheeks. It was true, though, every single word.

“Are you alright? I can, ah, make arrangements at the hotel if you-”

“No, no, you can stay here. Susan and Christian are in Vienna for a week. It would be nice to have company.” Nat adjusted the towel, the cool air from the porch a blessing for her tingling skin. “Maybe we could go into town for the Christmas market later.”

“I did see a big ferris wheel on the way up here.”

“It’s really pretty at night with all the colored lights. And there’s ice skating and games. It’ll be fun.”

“I’d like that.” Robert closed the gap between them, tucking a loose tendril behind her ear. “I am so happy to see you. I’ve missed you.”

Her breathing hitched as he cupped her chin. And just like that, she was lost. It was as if no time had passed. His touch riveted her, cloaking her in his magic spell. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Robert grazed her cheek with his thumb. “You’re not upset that I came, are you?”

“I hoped you would,” Nat replied, a devilish smile blooming on her face. “Why do you think I said all those things?”

His mouth fell open. “You little ... tart.” She squealed as he pounced, throwing her over his shoulder and swatting her backside. “You’re a dirty little girl. And do you know what happens to dirty little girls?”

Natalie giggled as he tossed her onto the bed, dropping over her. “Bad things?”

Robert shook his head, his eyes gliding along the line of her throat. “No. Very bad things.” He nipped her chin. “Extremely bad, as a matter of fact.” He slid his lips across hers, bound for her ear. “But not until I have a bit of snap and a look at the fair. We English take Christmas very seriously.”

*          *          *

A sea of hats and heavy wool coats littered the ice, swirling around them with wild abandon. As Robert gently tugged her through the throng, Nat’s knees buckled, and she reached for his shoulders, her grin matching his as he caught her.

“Christ, Natalie, you’re a resident of Switzerland, and you can’t ice skate?”

Nat wrinkled her nose. “You’ve got candy apple in your teeth.”

“So do you,” the singer shot back, his brow lifting.

“At least I have all mine.”

“Ouch.” Robert snickered. “I suppose one can’t be perfect. But I’m not far off.” Natalie yelped, gripping him tighter as he took a wide stride backwards, parting the pool of revelers behind him. “You need a proper lesson.”

Nat snuggled into the warmth of his chest, so solid and strong. She knew very well how to maneuver on the ice. In fact, she was a crack skater and loved it. But she loved his arms wrapped around her even more. “Just keep holding me, and I’ll skate along with you.”

“Is this a ploy to keep me close to you?” Robert asked, narrowing his eyes.

She batted her lashes. “Whyever would you think that?”

“Because you’re very tricky. My tricky little-”

“I know. Minx.” She pecked his dimpled cheek. “I like being your minx.”

Robert slowed to a stop. “And my muse?”

“Your muse? I’ve never been a muse before.”

“Not even your good friend David’s?”

She studied the tip of her boot. “He’s never mentioned it.”

Robert skimmed his fingers under her chin, reclaiming her gaze. “He’s a fool, then.” He could feel her swallow through the thin leather of his glove as he drew closer, his eyes dropping to her lips. “An absolute f-”

“Attention! Attention!”

The boy’s warning rang out too late, and Natalie clung to Robert as the child careened into them, depositing them into a twisted pile on the ice. He sprang up as fast as he’d gone down, muttering an apology before sliding away to wreak havoc elsewhere. She smiled as Robert stood, offering her his hand. “At least I’m not the worst one out here.”

“Something tells me you’re far from the worst.” He looped his arm through hers, guiding her to the side of the rink. “Let’s try an activity a hair less hazardous.”

While Natalie returned their skates, Robert was dispatched to procure tickets for the ferris wheel. A light snow filled the air as the last thread of dusk faded, and the market came alive. Strolling carolers roamed the network of booths, and bawdy laughter emanated from tents and too many helpings of spiked apple cider. The scents of pine and baked delicacies wafted endlessly around the twinkling tinsel-draped trees scattered about. It was one of her favorite things, a wonderful mix of spectacle and domesticity, convivial, but community, too.

“You ready?”

She nodded. “I’ve got to warn you. I don’t love heights.”

He gave her a squeeze. “I’ll protect you, my lady.”

“That doesn’t inspire much confidence.”

With more than a whisper of trepidation, Natalie boarded the car, which creaked mightily as the wheel began to turn. She instinctively grabbed Robert’s hand, her mouth curving as their fingers entwined. “This thing sure looked better from a distance.”

“It does seem to have seen finer days.”

The clamor from the festivities below them receded as they soared higher and higher, until they reached the apex of the circle. The cabin rocked back and forth as the motion suddenly ceased, and Nat’s smile disappeared. “Why did we stop? What’s going on?” She glanced to Robert, unimpressed with his mischievous smirk. “Wait. Did you tell them to? The other riders are not going to be …” The words were lost as she inspected the cars below them, all empty. “You bought all the tickets.”

“That and a healthy, ah, contribution should allow us a bit of privacy.” Robert guided her hand to his lips, caressing the back of it. “And a big view.”

A big view it was. Lights from the villages surrounding them danced in the distance. A bright full moon had peeked out from the clouds, sending silver shimmers across Lake Geneva and illuminating the snow covered peaks that abounded. “My God, I can see forever. It’s so beautiful.”

“Ah, but you put it to shame, Natalia.” Robert slid off her glove, kissing each of her fingers one by one.

He hadn’t used her nickname since his last visit to Montreux, and Natalie savored the intimacy of the moment. He was a hopeless romantic, and by default, had temporarily made her one, too. It was easy to get lost in him, his subtle smile and gentle gaze impossible to resist. So handsome, but there was far more to it than that. He had an aura, an air, a way that connected with her like no one else. She knew better than to let it happen, but that was just it. She’d no control. None whatsoever.

Robert skimmed his lips across her wrist. “You okay?”

Nat blinked, nodding. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“What are you thinking about?”

She took a breath, hesitating. That I’m in love with you. And I’m scared to death. “Nothing much.”

Robert’s brow wrinkled. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

The car lurched forward, hurdling them back against the seat. And her senses back to her. She cleared her throat, summoning a smile. “I, um, thought I saw my house, that’s all.”

“Where? Point to it.”

“I was wrong. Wrong direction.” She shrugged, slipping her glove back on. “We should probably get back. I don’t want to leave Duchess alone too long.”

“Who’s Duchess?”

“Our new kitten. I would have introduced you to her, but she gets nervous around people she doesn’t know. She’s probably still under one of the beds.”

“I bet I can coax her out. I’ve a way with the ladies, you know,” Robert added with a wink.

Natalie snorted. “Highly doubtful.”

“Shall we make a formal wager?”

Her gaze snapped to his. “What are the stakes?”

Robert pursed his lips. “If I win, I get to kiss you.”

“That’s it? No conditions?”

“Just one.” A wicked grin creased Robert’s face. “I get to do it anywhere I want.”

Natalie’s heart skipped a beat as sultry heat exploded in her tummy, slowly drifting lower. The things he could do to her with only words, the need he could summon with a simple phrase. It was nearly debilitating. She finally found her voice. “And if you lose?”

His dimple deepened. “Oh, darlin’, I’m not going to lose.”

#robert plant fanfic #robert plant fan fiction #led zeppelin fanfic #led zeppelin fan fiction #swiss time

[nekkidnanner]

So I had this cat tree from Walmart, and I got it right after the kittens were born. I suppose with normal use of one or two cats, it might not be a bad buy? It was definitely cheap. But they liked it. Lolly never went in the cave and Damascus hasn't since his siblings left, but mostly he outgrew it.

Pretty simple, a couple platforms, a cave thing, a scratch box, and some rope-like posts (I forget what the material is called). However all the kittens, and then later these two, played really rough on it. Not even six months later and it's rickety as hell. Bald in spots. One of the rope posts is unravelling.

So just today I got them a shiny new one. A Nice one 8D

So far they love it. Lolly is a bigger girl, so she loves the extra space on the platforms. She never went in the cave on the old one, but I caught her loafing in this box already (that's Damascus in that picture, he hogs it so far).

This thing is tall too, like five feet tall. The old one was about a foot shorter. It was expensive, but they had a payment plan of sorts, no fees and interest free. Like four payments of about $40 every two weeks.

Do I spoil these cats? Absolutely. It started as getting Lolly all these cheap toys because I felt so bad about her being dumped, and while she was clearly healthy and taken care of in that regard prior to being dumped it seemed, I wanted her to be happy. There's really good multi-packs of cheap toys on Amazon. That Halloween tent I got her in the beginning was on sale too (and it matched the spooky theme I have going on in my living room, but that's just a bonus). Also the boyfriend and I used to both work the same shift so she was left alone four nights a week for long stretches. Eventually she had the kittens to keep her company but they all needed amusement.

So then I got one of those multi-tiered ball track things. This new tree also has a ball on a track, with a scratch pad in the middle. The Halloween tent got flattened by the horde of kittens, so I got a pack of toys from Amazon that came with a whole ass three-way pop-up tunnel. Then another, bigger pop-up tent thing. They love this one and often cuddle in it:

They love those tiny mice. But they keep losing them somewhere. They shove stuff under the fridge and stove all the time, I fish it all out once a week at least. But these mice stay gone somewhere. I just got them a few more today, let's see how long they last.

They have plush crinkle toys, plastic balls with bells inside, fuzzy balls, crinkle balls, knitted balls that rattle, balls with feathers sticking out, just so much stuff. I got them a new separate scratch pad today, and good catnip before, so I sprinkled some of that on there.

There's a ball with a mouse in the middle that squeaks when it moves. That actually doesn't get played with much anymore, which is surprising because they love noises like that. Maybe because they can't actually reach the mouse, it's designed so it's in the center on a post. I might see if any of my friends want that one for free, before the batteries die.

A lot of this was purchased after the kittens were gone. I wanted these two to have things with just their scents on it. I also did a deep clean of the apartment for that same reason. Lolly appreciated that a lot, she was so much more visibly relaxed when I was done. And because she's so particular about scents, they also have their own personal brushes. Damascus doesn't care about getting brushed for now, he tries to chew on it mostly. But Lolly LOVES getting brushed. She sheds like a mf so this works out well for both of us (allergic still lol). But I had a feeling she'd like it less if she shared a brush because scents. I think I was right, she sniffs both brushes before she lets me brush her, and rubs her face on her's when she's ready.

My mom is constantly baffled by how much I spoil these cats. But like... yeah? They're alive and have emotions and get bored? And it makes me super happy when they're happy. I know what it's like to just exist, and I don't think that's healthy for animals either. I probably go a little overboard, it better that than not do enough. I probably didn't need to get them a $160 cat tree. I'd rather build them one myself, but I don't have tools and materials like that.

If I ever get a house, there will absolutely be a catio. Glass enclosed, temperature controlled, cat door so they can come and go from the rest of the house as they please. Ah, dreams. Like I'm ever gonna have a house 😂😂😭

Oh, my mom does enable me though. I got them this when Damascus was depressed about the missing siblings:

Those wands spin. He broke it within 24hrs because the shit was so cheap. Which sucks because he loved this thing. So my mom built me one like it with what she had laying around. I'm still trying to figure out how to anchor it so it doesn't tip over, because she didn't use the same type of base as the store-bought one. Things have been hectic lately so once I get a moment I'll finish that project.

#cats #kittens #crazy cat person #Lolly #Damascus #cat toys #spoiled rotten

[somewhereapart]

Strays (Baker’s Dozen verse)

For OQ Prompt Party Day 7: 118. Roland finds two kittens, they love Regina the most.

They’ve been trying to wear her down for weeks – months, even. Ever since Lydia turned two, Henry and Roland have been lobbying for a pet.

She’d forbidden a puppy point-blank. She doesn’t have the time, or the energy, to deal with an apartment full of chewed shoes and puddles of pee. Lydia is enough of a destroyer as it is, she doesn’t need an accomplice.

And kittens, well… She’s never really been a fan. They just seem too… prissy, too aloof. Self-sufficient, yes, that’s great, but… She’s just not a pet person.

In the end, though, the decision is made for her, on a muggy night in late August. They’ve left the baby to the capable hands of Belle and August, opting to take the boys to a dinner that doesn’t involve high chairs or Cheerios. Something more grown up as a final send-off to summer before school starts.

It was Henry’s turn to choose, and there hadn’t been a moment of hesitation: he wanted “Chinatown dumplings” – what he calls the pork soup dumplings that he and Emma often go stuff themselves with on their regular playdates. She always takes him to the same place—a little cash-only hole-in-the-wall down below Canal Street—and it’s apparently serious business.

They sit around a communal table, and Henry instructs them very carefully in the right way to eat their dumplings without spilling the soup or burning their tongues (Roland does both, but he doesn’t seem to mind), and by the time they leave, they’re all happy and packed to the gills with dumplings, and rice, and beef with string beans, and orange shrimp, and chicken lo mein.

They stroll down darkened streets together, Robin’s arm slung over her shoulder, the boys several paces ahead chattering away – close enough that it doesn’t feel unsafe but far enough that they feel like they have their freedom.

It’s been a good night. A wonderful night.

So when the boys stop near a small mountain of trash piled up by the curb, she doesn’t think much of it. She notices, sure, and grimaces, and says a prayer of thanks that she’d thrown a fresh bottle of hand sanitizer in her purse just yesterday. But she doesn’t call out to them until they’re bending down and reaching toward the pile.

Even then, it’s only a stern (but mild), “Stay out of the trash!”

Henry glances up and waves a hand fervently at them, beckoning them forward, but Roland’s attention is rapt.

When she and Robin catch up, it becomes immediately clear why.

One of the garbage bags has a hole in it, little bits of fish and sour liquid spilled out on the sidewalk, and there, making a meal of it, is a pair of calico kittens.

“Daddy, look!” Roland exclaims, reaching out and scooping up one of the mangy little things before Regina can stop him. It meows loudly, twisting in his grasp, and all Regina can think about is fleas. Fleas, and maybe rabies.

“I see, my boy,” Robin says, crouching down near the piles and saying, “But we should probably put him back where we found him, so his mummy and daddy can find him.”

“He doesn’t have a mummy and daddy,” Roland insists. “They’re all alone, and they’re hungry!” Regina is entirely unsurprised that he turns those big, dark eyes on her and pleads, “Can we take them home, Regina?”

She’s loath to break his tender heart, but still, “Absolutely not.”

She says it kindly, but she says it all the same.

“Mom, please.” It’s Henry this time. It’s not-so-little boy’s pleading eyes, and he’s scooping up the other kitten as she winces, cupping his scrawny body carefully, and saying, “Look how skinny they are! They’re starving, they’re eating garbage.”

“They’re covered in fleas,” Regina reasons gently. “And we don’t have anything for them – no food, no litter box, no—”

“We can get them!” Roland argues, cradling his yowling little dirtball against his shirt, and now he’s got fleas, too, hasn’t he?

“Yeah, Mom, it’s not that late,” Henry encourages. “We could get all that stuff. And we could give them a bath to get rid of any bugs. I don’t think they even have any!”

Regina narrows her eyes, bending close to get a good look at the little critters. They’re grubby, their white patches grayed with dirt; she can’t tell if the little black flecks she sees are more dirt or the dreaded fleas.

She glances toward Robin, and points out, “You’ve been suspiciously quiet over there.”

He just shrugs, stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and says, “I’m hearing out their arguments.”

“We can’t leave them,” Roland insists, petting the top of one little head. “What if they die out here? They wouldn’t die at our house, please, Regina? We need to save them. They’re only babies!”

He’s starting to get worked up, holding that squirming ball of fluff closer as his eyes start to well up with tears.

She’s going to regret it, she’s certain of it, but she knows that Roland is right. The kittens seem to be abandoned, they’re all skin and bones and dingy fur, and they’ll certainly suffer out here on their own. Suffer, and maybe die.

So she sighs, deeply, and relents, “Okay, we can bring them home,” earning a twin chorus of Yes! from the boys, and a dimpled grin from her husband.

And just like that, their family is two kittens larger.

They just barely make it to the pet store before closing, and make quick work of stocking up on “the essentials.” Which apparently include not only a bed (she insists on just one, it’s large enough for both kittens), a flea dip, a litter box, some kitten food, but also a pair of itty bitty collars with jingling bells, two packets of felt mice, a handful of catnip treats, a dangling feather…

They leave laden, the boys cradling the most precious cargo, Robin and Regina hefting all the rest, and as they make their way home, she asks, “So what will we name them?”

“I suppose we need to find out if they’re boy kittens or girl kittens first,” Robin reasons, but the boys heartily disagree.

“We can give them names that work for both!” Henry insists, and it’s decided that he and Roland get to name a kitten each.

Henry decides to give his kitten the apt moniker of Dumpling, in honor of when and where they were found.

“I’m gonna name mine after our dinner, too!” Roland insists, and Regina wonders if they’re going to end up with Shrimpy, or Orange. But in the end, kitten number two is christened Noodles.

“Not Noodle?” Regina asks, but Roland is adamant.

“Nope. Noodles.”

And so they are, Dumpling and Noodles.

Their first bath reveals that, yes, they most definitely have fleas, and a strong aversion to water. But they manage to get them cleaned up, and flea-dipped, and get their little bellies full of soggy kibble.

And Regina has to admit that they’re actually pretty cute. Those white patches are properly white, and their scrubbed fur is soft and surprisingly fluffy when it dries. They sleep curled up in that little bed together, purring happily, and Roland watches them adoringly, telling Regina again and again how happy they look, how they saved them, isn’t she glad they saved them.

And yes, she has to admit, she is.

She’s not thrilled at the prospect of their furniture (or their toddler) getting scratched all to hell, but she thinks that she’d have had a hard time not thinking about those little, purring bundles wandering the streets eating trash.

Lydia, as it turns out, loves the kittens. Loves them. Adores them – in an Elmira from Tiny Toons sort of way. Robin and Regina are constantly reminding her Gentle, gentle… We pet, we don’t squeeze…

They’re also constantly reminding the kittens (they’re a boy and a girl, it turns out) to scratch on their new post and not the kitchen chairs. To gnaw on, well, anything but Henry’s fingers or Regina’s hair. To not frolic all over Regina’s legs as she naps on the couch after dinner. They’re lively – damn near manic – when they descend upon their catnip toys.

But Regina has to admit, it’s nice to have company in the wee hours of the morning when she drags herself out of bed to shower and dress. She finds their insistent little mews as she fills their food bowls a cheerful welcome to the world of the waking, enjoys the soft brush of their furry bodies around her ankles as she readies herself for the day post-shower.

And okay, yes, they do make lovely, warm space heaters when they curl themselves into the bend of her knee at night, or crawl up and settle down on her chest, their steady rumbling echoing against her heart.

She catches Robin smiling at her one night, while she scratches Noodles behind his ears, Dumpling’s fluffy form stretched over her thigh.

“What?” she asks him, and Robin’s grin just widens.

“Not a pet person,” he mutters, a hint of mocking in his voice, and she realizes she’s somehow become a veritable cat lady, despite her hesitance to take in these silly little ruffians.

Regina just rolls her eyes, gives Noodles’ ears a little tug, and tells Robin through her grin, “Shut up.”

(FFnet/Ao3)

#outlaw queen #hood mills family #oq prompt party #verse: baker's dozen #somewhereapart writes

[kaywritesthings]

God and country 6

Gabe: Gabe looked over and kissed Clyde’s temple. “You did,” he said and leaned in to pet Clyde’s cat as well. She was a sweet old cat, as far as Gabe could tell. She purred so loud Gabe was sure he could hear it from a few rooms over. He smiled when his kitten started attacking a string that was hanging off of his pants. “They have two different temperments,” he said and laughed, shaking his head. “But it’s good. It won’t be a dull moment around here again.” He kissed Clyde. “I love you too. And that sounds great! I’ll go get the little tool box.” He grabbed it and started opening the box for the cat house and shook his head as Raven kept meowing loudly and tried to get in the way.

Clyde: Clyde went to put a cat bed in their room and one in the guest room for them to have opitions. He loved how happy his old cat was. She was sleeping so well. He felt good. He did a happy dance into the living room and held out the instrctions. “Your sister is coming back after she sets up jedi.” That was what she named her cat.

Gabe: Gabe let out a happy laugh when Clyde came dancing out of the bedroom and had to grab him around the waist and kiss him again. “Oh that’s fine,” he said and laughed. “I don’t mind. I just love seeing you this happy. It makes you even more gorgeous,” he said, and kissed Clyde again before Raven let out a yowl and jumped on his back with claws extended making Gabe cry out.

Clyde: Clyde went to pick the cat off his back. “We should… get him declawed. He wont be an outside cat.” He laughed. “I will make the appointment” He said

Gabe: Gabe let out a soft laugh and winked over at Clyde. “Yeah maybe we should. Since he’s a menace.” He scratched behind Raven’s ears. “He just wants all the attention.” He grinned. “You have compettion for my affection now.”

Clyde: He didnt want the cat to scratch everything. He knew he would need to neuter him soon, so he would request the declaw too. He ksised Gabe’s chee. “Ohhhh, I am not scaed. I know what to do to pull focus back. I am going to order pizzza for dinner. What sounds good?”

Gabe: Gabe laughed and stroked his cat’s head against before setting him down and throwing a cat toy to try and distract him so they could put the scratching post together. “That’s true,” he said and kissed Clyde again. “You pull focus just by being here.” He kissed Clyde’s nose. “I could go for Hawaiian.”

Clyde: He ordered hawaiian. He ordered meat lovers and cheese He hoped that his ssiter like one of those. He ordered breadsticks and salad too. He went to look at hte bar, he had plenty of liquiorHe grabbed rum and put it in club soda, and took it to Gabe. He made one for himself and for Gabe. “Heere love.” Your sister is coming over!“

Gabe: Gabe started to put together the post and smiled at Clyde. He wasn’t very handy and the post was easy to put together, but he felt accomplished when it was done. And Raven looked almost deleriously happy and started crawling all around it, scratching contently. He took the drink. "Thank you,” he said and smiled, taking a sip. “So, do you think you’ll be okay if i go back to work tomorrow?” he asked softly. “You have to kids to look after now. Well a kid and a cut little old lady.”

Clyde joined the chat

Clyde: “Yes, I will miss you very much, but I will be fine. I will be busy. Your sister will entertain me tomorrow. ” He kissed his cheek. He would have to get use to having Gabe back at work while he stayed behind at home. “What time do you get home from work, so I can have dinner ready?” He asked as he wrapped his arm around his shoulder and looked into his eyes

Gabe: Gabe smiled and kissed Clyde back. “Good I’m glad,” he said, and laughed. “But I’ll be a little bit jealous.” he wrapped his arms around Clyde’s neck and kissed him gently on the lips. “I’ll be done at the office at 5:30. So I should be home around 6. Are you sure you want to cook for me? I can pick something up for both of us on the way home.”

Clyde: “I want to cook for you, you just come home and rest? Ok. That’s your only job after work.” He kissed his lips “I will make meatloaf. ” He smiled and kissed his cheek. Gabes pone started to go off His ex texting him about meeting up and talking. He missed him and he had something to tell him

Gabe: Gabe couldn’t help but be tickled at the idea of Clyde wanting to cook for him. He smiled brightly and kissed him, sucking gently at Clyde’s lower lip. He pulled back when he heard his phone go off and went to look at it. He immediately frowned and tried to text back an answer without drawing Clyde’s attention. “We do you have to tell me? I am sorr if you miss me, but I’ve moved on. I’m happy now.”

Clyde: clyde went to go change into pjs and put the laundry together to send it out tomorrow. They had someone that did laundy for the people in this building.(IDK HIS EX NAME UHH JASON) Jason text back. “I messed up with you and I miss you. I really think we could work it out. I been thinking about you since I saw you last. Please can we meet up?”

Gabe: Gabe saw that he hadn’t drawn CLyde’s attention and took his phone into the kitchen, his kitten trailing behind him, purring loudly and rubbing aggainst his leg. “No. We can’t. I told you, Jason, I’m with someone now. Someone I love very much.”

Clyde: “you dont know him. We dated for longer and I loved you. I jut was shit at it. Please, one drink? You arent married to him yet, right?” Clyde looked around for Gabe. He popped his head in the kitchen. “Love! I was thinking we could build the star wars legos thing!”

Gabe: Gabe sighed. “No. I can’t talk right now. Clyde and are are going to play with star wars legos,” he texted and then closed his phone. Jason was never open to the nerdier things he wanted, so he figured that was a good thing. “Yes lets! We might have to get my cat high on catnip first though, or he’ll swallow the pieces.”

Clyde: “Yes! Let’s do that.” He laughed and went to get the catnip. He had a starwars shirt on and his hair in a bun. He had socks to his thighs. The dooor rang telling them they had someone at the entrance for them. It was the pizza. Gabes phone rang. It was Jason, he left a message “Please, he’s a child. I am our age almost and we had a lot in common. One drink?”

Gabe: He smiled and had to snap a few pictures of Clyde in the starwars shirt and his bun, laughing. He was hot and adorable at the same time. He loved it. He kissed Clyde’s neck. “What time is my sister coming, do you know?” he asked and sighed when his phone rang. He typed back a quick message without really reading it. “Stop. We can open it up to being friends, but not right now. I’m sorry, and I care for you, but that time is over.” He smiled at Clyde. “Do you want a beer?”

Clyde

clyde saw he was on his phone a couple times. He pouted.“who is texting you so much? Should.. should I be worried?” It could be work or his sister “No, I want vodka! He smiled. He hoped that was ok. He was already getting things different than gabe ands eeing it was ok.

Gabe: Gabe shook his head and gave Clyde a smile. "No, its just something annoying. They can deal with me not talking back for the rest of the evening,” he said and poursed Clyde some vodka. “Just straight vodka, honey?” he asked and laughed. “Or do you want a chaser?”

Clyde: “I want a chaser. I wasn uh 7 up?” He smiled. “Or club soda” He sat on the sofa. “Are they upsetting you? Do you want me to talk to them and tell them to leave you alone?” Hea sked. “I will. I can be really bitchy.”

Gabe: Gabe grabbed a club soda and handed that and the vodka to Clyde, before grabbing himself a beer and popping the top off. He took a sip. “No, no,” he told Clyde, probably a little too quickly. “ No, don’t get involved. It’s fine. I just want to have a nice night with you and the cats and pizza and my sister when she gets here.”

Clyde: “But who is it?” He pouted. He didnt want secrets. It made him nervous. “Can I see?” He said reaching for his phone. “Yes, shes on her way! who is talking to you, you seem upset. Is it Johnny?”

Gabe: Gabe sighed, and wished Clyde wasn’t so worried about this. He ducked his head and sighed. “It’s not Johnny. Just…promise me you won’t be upset?”

Clyde: “I wont get upset. I promise.’ He kissed his cheek. "Unless its another lover?” He teased knowing it couldnt be. He kissed his forehead. “I jsut.. I am worried about it.. ” He pouted

Gabe: Gabe laughed. “No it’s not another lover. It’s one of my ex’s. That one we saw in the park once. He just wants me to get back together with him and keeps pestering me about it. I told him no.” He reached for Clyde’s hand. “Okay? You can read the texts if you want,” he said and offered his phone to Clyde.

Clyde: Clyde frowned and read the text. He nodded. He turned the camera around ont hem and kissed his cheek and took a photo. He sent the photo and handed it over. “I’m not too worried. You are mine and I am yours… we are ok.. and I wont worry” Je worried a little bit. But gabe got cats with him so that meant something.

Gabe: Gabe waited, worried for Clyde’s reaction. He was trying to be as honest as possible so Clyde wouldn’t get upset. He was surprised at the photo but tried to smile. “Good. Don’t be worried. I’m yours and thats it. Whatever happened in the past, whoever I was with…it doesn’t matter. Just me and you matter.” He took Clyde’s hand and kissed it, before kissing Clyde on the lips again.

Clyde: “I know.” He smiled and kissed his forehead. “You’re just really hot. See? People want you'He was abit nervous, but knew that Gabe would be honest with him. He showed his phone. He had to trust him. "Am I the love of your life?”

Gabe: Gabe rolled his eyes. “No, it’s probably about money,” he said and flushed a little. “Even if I am hot, you’re the only one that made me feel that way.” He kissed Clyde again and smiled. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. And I know I’ll never love anyone like this again. It’s just you.”

Clyde: “But are you in lvoe with me?” He pouted He wanted that answer. He rubbed his head. “Baby, you are SO hot. Like damn hot. I wantt o have sex with you right now, if we didnt have compnay coming over, I would.” He smiled “I am in love with you, the first time I realize that… is when you brought that flower to me on the water slide.”

Gabe: Gabe laughed and sighed. “Honey, that’s what I was saying. I love you and I’m in love with you. I mean it both ways when I say it.” He kissed Clyde long and deep on the lips. “We can have sex later. After,” he promised. He stroked his fingers through Clyde’s hair and smiled brightly. “Come on honey. Let’s relax and eat some pizza. We can be gross and in love all night and make my sister annoyed.”

Clyde: “I shuld try to find your sister a nice man.’ He smiled and kissed his lips "We better have sex before we sleep. It will help you feel better.” He said and went to the kitchen to get piza. He took a piece of hawaii and meat lovers and matched plates One meat and one hawaii for them both. He handed the equal plate to Gabe. “I am working on it” He said and went to sit down to eat his pizza. His sister was running late.

Gabe: Gabe laughed softly. “That would be nice of you,” he said and nipped at Clyde’s lower lip and smiled. “I think you’re right,” he said, and took the plate, taking a bite of the hawaiian. “I know, Clyde. "You’re doing great,” he said and lifted his beers. “We have different drinks and everything,” he said and laughed. He looked up when he heard a knock on the door before his sister burst in with her key. “Hey!”

Clyde: “We do. I dont really like beer. I mean I like the girl beer.” He smiled when his sister came in. “Hey, we got pizza in hte kitchen. Gabe’s ex boyfriend is tryign to get with him. Do you remember him? Jason?” He called out. “Should I be worried?” He puted when LEigh came in the room, he had a pout of his face.

Gabe: “Oh the girl beer?” he said and laughed. “I’ll make sure to get you some. And for you too, Leigh. But for now-” Gabe said and Leigh laughed and grabbed some pizza. “For now I’ll have a vodka cranberry.” Gabe made her a drink and smiled, but then frowned when Clyde asked about Jason. Leigh shrugged. “Jason? I don’t know. Was he the blonde?” Gabe shook his head. “No, curly dark hair.”

Clyde: “Who is the blonde one!” He asked. He wanted to know everuthing. “Am I the cutest one hes ever had?” He asked. He knew Jason was very pretty. “What did the blonde one look like?” He asked. He sighed. He drank his drink and set it down to chew on pizza

Gabe: Gabe sighed heavily. “Do we really have to talk about everyone I’ve ever dated?” he said. Leigh laughed brightly. “I don’t remember his name or I would tell you! But you’re definitely the cutest. By far,” she said. “And if Jason is the one I remember, you don’t have anything to worry about. He’s definitely not as cute as you.”

Clyde: Clyde squeaked and hugge dher. He went over and hugged Gabe. He ksised his cheek. He was glad to be the fairest of them all. He went to take another shot. He was a bit tipsy. They all laid out the legos and started to look over the plans on how to build. Both cats were asleep. Maggie in her big pink bed, and Raven in the middle of the bean bag sound asleep.

Gabe: Gabe was glad his sister was standing up for him like that, becuase he didn’t want Clyde more worried. He held Clyde tightly and kissed him softly on the lips before kissing his sister’s cheek in thanks. He was glad to sit down with Clyde and his sister and work on something peaceful like this, chatting softly about nothing important.

Gabe: f

Clyde: Clyde didnt worry anymore. His boyfrined loved hima nd got them cats. He wanted him to stay in the house. Even if gabe cheated, Clde thought he wouldnt leave then too. He would stay around because he loved htis safe life. He just hoped Gabe didnt cheat. He would be hurt. He startd to build he botton of the lego building. He would work out as often as posible to stay thin and hot for Gabe’s eyes and desires.

Gabe: Gabe still had a hard time believing this was his life. He didn’t know how to really reconcile it with what it had been in the past. Being happy and feeling safe and secure and like someone loved him. He laughed and joked and kissed Clyde when he could, putting little parts of the lego together. It was getting late, and he had work in the morning, but for the moment, Gabe didn’t care.

Clyde: Clyde noticed it was getting late and he made his boyfriend get ready for bed “go brush your teeth. We will do part two tomorrow.” He told Gabe. He kissed his cheek and stood up. He and his sister would have a sleep over tonight in the living room. They pulled out the bed on the sofa and set up a makeshift bed on the side sofa. “I will go tuck him in."He winked and went into the bedroom to brush his teeth. "Alright love, how can I help you sleep?” He asked laying in bed. “Your sister and i will have a sleep over, but we wont be loud. WE are gonna watch a few rom coms.. but i want to make sure we get some time … to sleepy kiss and more?”

Gabe: Gabe didn’t really want to go to sleep but he nodded and reached his arms up and stretched before letting out a sigh and nodding. “Okay, okay,” he said and laughed. “I guess I should. But I feel old,” he said as Clyde led him to the room. “You can always wake me up before you go to sleep,” he said and winked, pulling Clyde in and kissing him hard and deep on the lips.

Clyde: Clyde moaned and kissed his lip. He made him go to the bed. He straddled his lap and rubbed his cock against Gabes trying to ge thim hard. He removed his shirt and ran his hand down his chest. He rolled his hips and made his chest move like waves to put Gabe in a tance to be ready for fucking. He rolled his hips and grabbed Gabes hand to touch his winding hips. “Mmmm Gabe… I cant wait.. for you to be inside me”

Gabe: Gabe shuddered when Clyde straddled him and let out a breathless laugh. “Clyde, my sisters right outside,” he moaned, and squeezed his hips. “And you said you’d watch movies with her, so its not even like she’s asleep-” he said, moaning a little as Clyde rocked over him. “Please. That’s not fair.”

Clyde: “Oh..” He rubbed Gabe’s growing cock. “ok, you’re right.” He tossed his head back and pressed his chest forward. He rubbed his butt over his cock before unstraddlig him and getting off the bed. “Since you are worried about it. I will go. I was thinking we could be quiet… but yeah, I better go watch movies.” He said as he bent over to show his ass perky in the air. He bent in a way that opened himself up and showed his newly shaved entrance. He picked up a shirt and pulled it over his body. “ok, see you in the morning?”

Gabe: Gabe had no idea why Clyde wanted to torutre him. It wasn’t very nice of him at all when he knew how self conscious he was about having sex when there were other people in the apartment. Espeically people he knew were awake. And he was related to them. “She’s going to know what we’re doing,” he hissed and sighed. “I told you to wake me up when she goes to sleep,” he pouted.

Clyde: Clyde pouted. He wanted to tease Clyde and have him grab his hips and tel him to get to bed right now. “I thought you meant in the morning. I wont wake you up .” He felt his cheeks go red. He was trying to be fun. He sighed. “Good nigth gabe.” He said and felt his feelings were hurt He shut the door and went to sit by Leigh. “Your brother and I had a fight” Room contains 309 KB. Click here to view previous content

Clyde: “No, I have a date!” She said/ I was going to, but.. yeah.“ She left. She promised to text later and to text if it was going back. Clyde smiled and kissed Gabe’s lips. "It’s just us, is that ok?” He asked. “After dinner we can go to the hot tub?”

Gabe: Gabe smiled and nodded. “Of course it’s okay if its just us,” he said and smiled, kissing Clyde again a few times. “The hot tube sounds like a great idea. I just want to keep kissing you. You’re the best thing to come home to.”

Clyde: He giggled and was glad Gabe liked coming home to him. He kissed his lips and nodded. “Come sit down. We can talk and kiss for 24 minutes?” He suggested as he pulled him down on the bean bag chair. The cat jmped off his shoulder and went to run around. He kissed his lips and smiled. “How was your day?” He asked as he took his hands and ran them up Gabe’s shirt.

Gabe: Gabe nodded and went to sit down, let out out a soft laugh, watching his cat start to run around. “Oh it was fine. A little dull. Just a lot of phone calls and paperwork. And I talked about you a lot,” he said, shivering happily as Clyde ran his hand up his shirt. He rocked his chest forward and leaned in to kiss Clyde’s neck. “I even missed how good you smell.” He kissed Clyde’s neck. “What did you do all day?”

Clyde: “I need to get a photo of us for your desk. I want to see your office tomorrow if thats ok? I woke up and took the laundry to the laundry cleaner place downstaris. I went to work out for an hour. I cleaned up and then watched a movie with your sister. We prepared dinner. Taht’s pretty much it.” He kised under his neck. “Mised you a lot..”

Gabe: Gabe laughed brightly. “Yes I want to have some photos of you at my desk,” he said and stroked his fingers gently through Clyde’s hair. “How many people oogled you while you were working out?” he asked and laughed, running a hand over Clyde’s chest. He loved Clyde’s abs. “I misseed you too. I’ll definitely take you to work with me tomorrow. So I get to see you more.”

Clyde: “A few people. Brandon tried to corner me in the elevator, but I got out. He’s very determined.” He told Gabe. He kissed his lips. “Hmm, I will love to go and see your work and hang out in your office.” He heard a loud hiss. He looked up to see Raven hissing at his shadow. “He’s an odd cat, but I love him.” He laughed.

Gabe: Gabe frowned at that and groaned. “Well maybe I have to have a talk with Brandon. He needs to realize that you belong to me,” he said possessively and gripped Clyde’s hips and kissed him hard on the lips. He pulled back when he heard his cat. “He’s just a little…excitable,” he said and laughed. “Maybe he had too much catnip today.”

Clyde: “Yeah, he has. He is a bit drugged.” He got up to go answer the timer going off. He was a little hard. Gabe saying he was his turned him on like nothing else. He rubbed his cock to go off the tightest part of his pants to his thigh. He grabbed a couple pot holders to get the meatload out to cool. “We need more pots and pans if I am going to cook more. I might go to the cook wear store tomorrow if thats ok?”

Gabe: Gabe watched as Clyde pulled the meatloaf out of the oven and watched his ass and smiled brightly. God he had the best life now. He grinned. “Yes of course you can get some more pots and pans. I don’t have a lot.” He hummed. “Maybe I can take you by the bank tomorrow too before work. I want to put your name on one of the accounts so you can get your own credit card.”

Clyde: Clyde smiled. He couldnt believe he could get his own. His aunt wrote him about needing help, and he would send her a couple hundred tomorrow. He didnt want her to suffer. She said she was hungry, he ordered her a pizza tonight. He meant to tell Gabe. “Great, ok.” He smiled. “I uh, helped my aunt today by ordering her pizza and might send her 200 tomorrow? Is that ok?” He asked and put the meat loaf out.

Gabe: Gabe was glad that Clyde didn’t fight him. he was worried he would say he needed to work. Gabe wanted to take care of him, in whatever he wanted to do. He got up and went to kiss Clyde’s cheek. “Oh, honey of course,” he said when Clyde mentioned sending money to his aunt. “Yes you can. I want you to help her.” He smelled the meatloaf and groaned a little. “It smells so good.”

Clyde: He maybe would send her three hundred But he would work for Gabe, do all the house work and cook dinner. That was like work , right? He served up Gabes plate and his plate. He tried to do the different meals, but he wasnt ready, but he did have different drinks and he gave Gabe more meatloaf, so that was someting He set the food down on the table, and went to go light the candle he set out. He sat down and smiled. “I like it here.”

Gabe: Gabe loved how domestic all this was and was so excited to realize that this was his life now. “Aww, Clyde,” he cooed when Clyde lit a candle too. He leaned over and kissed Clyde softly on the lips. “I like you here. I love you here,” he said and put a hand on his knee. “I want you to always be here.” He took a bite of the meatloaf and groaned happily. 'Oh my God, Clyde. This is fantastic.“

Clyde: "Thank you, I used a lot of spices in it.” He kissed his cheek that was full of food. He loved feeding Gabe and hoped that Gabe was so happy. He looked incredibly happy. He knew after pie they could brush their teeth, go to the hot tub, then come back and make amazingly slow love in bed…. until they came and passed out in each others arms. That is how he wanted the evening to go. He ate his meal and asked about work and talked a little about tomorrow and going with him. He cleaned hte plates, and set them to the side. He served the pie and ate that with him too. He cleaned that up “Lets go to the hot tub?”

Gabe: Gabe ate happily and kept one hand lightly on Clyde’s thigh as they ate, and felt like he was falling more and more in love with Clyde at every second. He was just…so perfect. Gabe could only dream of this kind of life before, and now he had a beautifl person who wanted to take care of him. He was giddy all through dinner and then took Clyde’s hand and took him to the bedroom. “Maybe in a minute,” he said and kissed Clyde hard on the lips. “I think we have something else that needs to be taken care of first,” he said and kissed Clyde harder.

Clyde: Clyde moaned and nodded. He would skip the hot tub in a heart beat to have a nice slow sex session. He kissed him back and wrapped his arms around his neck. He presed himself against Gabe and wanted to grow against his body. He kissed his lips while sliding his hand down to undo his own pants, then turned his wrist to start working on Gabes.

Gabe: Gabe moaned when Clyde started to kiss him back. He pushed Clyde back to the bed and started undressing, falling against Clyde once he got his clothes off and moaning gratefully. He moaned and started to kiss down Clyde’s neck, grabbing his hips possesively.

Gabe joined the chat 5 hours ago

Clyde joined the chat 5 hours ago

Clyde: “Oh hello, someone’s missed me?” He teased, he felt his cock at his thigh and rubbed Gabe’s amazing thick cock He had no rode it in a couple of days, and was ready to do that. He hoped Gabe wanted sex right now, foreplay was AMAZING and he loved it, but he also LOVED his huge dick. He kissed his lips and rolled over on top of him straddling his waist.

Gabe: Gabe moaned a little and nodded. “Yes very much,” he murmured and groand when Clyde rubbed against his cock. He moaned again when Clyde rolled on top of him and shivered, gripping his hips tightly and leaning up to kiss him hard and needy on the lips.

Clyde: “Baby…” He moaned. “I really want to have sex.” He confessed so that Gabe knew He wanted that large important cock inside him so bad. He dreamed about it all day. “Is.. is that ok with you?”

Gabe: Gabe nipped at Clyde’s lower lip and nodded. “Yes, I want you too-” he said and rocked his hips up hard, reaching his hands down to grab Clyde’s ass and squeeze it. “Can you feel how much?” he asked and rocked up again, wanting Clyde to feel all of it.

Clyde: “Yeaass it’s sort of NOT hard to miss. You are so big. I dont know how… you walk around all day with that.” He laughed softly and lean in to kiss his lips. He loved how it stretched him out so much. How did anyone give that up? He pushed his ass back against Gabes hands. “Do you want this?”

Gabe: Gabe chuckled a little and kissed Clyde back, breathing harshly against his lips. Clyde made him feel so sexy. He wasn’t used to it and he didn’t know how to deal with it most if the time. He squeezed Clyde’s ass again and nodded. “Yes,” he breathed and started to pull at Clyde’s clothes. “Yes I do, I’ve bene thinking about it all day.”

Clyde: He moaned when he said he thought about fucking all day. “Me too Baby, I been craving you.” He licked his lips and grabbed the lube and handed it to Gabe to lube himself up. “I need you so badly…” He moaned sitting straight up and rocking back and forth against his hips.

Gabe: Gabe grabbed the lube from Clyde and stroked it over his cock, and then used his fingers to press against Clyde’s entrance, wanting to make sure he was perpared and wouldn’t get hurt. He kissed at Clyde’s neck and teased him gently with his fingers for a few minutes. “Are you ready?”

Clyde: “Yeah, I been ready.” He moaned and rode his fingers to show it. He couldnt wait to have Gabe inside his wanting body. He moved his hips so taht his cock lined up with his entrance. He moaned as he lowered himself onto his cock and felt it push heavy inside his body

Gabe: Gabe let out a loud moan when Clyde lowered himself down onto his cock, his fingers finding Clyde’s hips and gripping them tightly. He loved it like this, having Clyde over him, and seeing how beautiful he was like this, over the top of him, glistening and gorgeous like he’d jsut stepped out of an exotic ad somewhere. Gabe kieed his neck and started to rock his hips up, moaning desperately.

Gabe joined the chat 11 minutes ago

Clyde joined the chat

Clyde: Clyde tossed his head back and started to scream in low oh and ahs. He took deep brathed, lifting his chest as he did and lowering it. He felt completely undone. He loved his stomach and how it wasnt perfect, he had handlebars to grab onto. Gabes body was paradise Clyde started to take his cock in and out really fast, wanting it to burn and wanting to get use to it really fast. “Gabe..” He shouted. “Oh god..gabbbeeee… oh yessss.”

Gabe: Gabe let out a loud moan when Clyde started to move so fast so quickly, and felt like he couldn’t do much more than hang on. He panted out breaths and when he thought he had it under control enough for a few seconds, he reached out and grabbed Clyde’s cock and stroked it, whimpering Clyde’s name.

Clyde: “Gabeee. ” He let out loud breaths as he slammed his hips up and down, taking his cock as his sex object. He moaned and lean down to kiss his lips. He ran his hands up his sides and around hia shoudlers. He kissed his lips harder and faster… He found his own prostate real fast and started to rub himself against Gabe’s tip and shaft. “Gabbbeee.” He bit his lower lip.

Gabe: Gabe tried to contribute as much as he could, rocking up into Clyde, but he had to work really hard to do it without falling apart completely. Clyde was too good and he was often too overcome to make sex last very long. He shuddered and stroked Clyde’s cock harder, moaning against Clyde’s lips and sharing his breath when he pulled back just a little. “God, Clyde you’re so perfect,” he moaned, and thrust up into Clyde has hard as he could.

Clyde: Clyde moaned as he felt close with each press to his prostate. He smiled when he said he was perfect. He kissed his lips and cupped his cheek “Thank you, love.. You too.” He said as he kissed his lips. “Do me a favor? Spank me.” He begged. “Please?”

Gabe: Gabe shuddered and wondered what kind of favor Clyde could want right now. He kissed Clyde hard when he gave it and did his best, slapping Clyde’s ass in a way tha the hoped he enjoyed.

Clyde: Clyde moaned loudly when he slapped his ass. “It turned me on earlier, when you said I was yours.your property.” He moaned and archd his back. “One more time. Spank me.” He loved the sound of a spank and the way it jolted him.

Gabe: Gabe didn’t like to think of it as property at all, and faltered for just a moment, but he liked the way Clyde moaned about it and slapped his ass again, burying his face in Clyde’s neck.

Clyde: Clyde wondeed if he upset Gabe, he hoped not. He tried to hard to be sexy and perfect boyfriend and hopefully husband material. “mmm.. umm make love to my body, i do love when you do that.” He said trying to talk more Gabe like.

Gabe: Gabe stroked a hand down Clyde's back and leaned up and smiled at Clyde, kissing him slow and deep on the lips. "Of course I do.  You're perfect."  He kissed his lips.  "I love you too."  He sighed and then grinned.  "I think we should go to the hot tub for awhile and then come back and have sex again."

Clyde: Clydes jaw dropped. "Again?" He smiled. He didnt think they woul have sex again. He sat up. "You arent too tired, honey? I can help you get to sleep?" He said.

Gabe: Gabe smiled and winked, sitting up and kissing Clyde again. "No, I'm not to tired," he said and grinned.  He got up and tossed Clyde some swim trunks.  "Come on lets go!"

Clyde: "You HAVE a lot of energy for a old man." He teased. He texted Leigh to see how she was, she said great and this guy she was with was SUPER CTUE. She'll text him later. He sent her a 😄 gave and set the phone down as he went to put on swim trunks

Gabe: "Sometimes, I do," he said and shook his hips at Clyde, and got dressed in his swim suit.  He grabbed some towels and took Clyde's hand.  "Come on, lets go!  I'll grab a bottle of wine for us too.  Or vodka if you perfer."

Clyde: "Wine sounds great. Let's do wine' He smiled and went over to him and kissed his cheek.He told  Gabe abou his sisters text. He heaed for the hot tub.

Gabe: Gabe grinned and got a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses and joined Clyde in the elevator to take them to the hot tub.  "Well thats good.  I'm glad she found someone she likes. She hasn't told me about anyone she'd dated in years."

Clyde: "She just met him. Probably because you dont ask! You should ask. We can have them over for dinner if they work out? Double dating is fun! I never did it before, but it sounds fun." He said before leaving the elevator and headed to the hot tub

Gabe: Gabe laughed a little, knowing that wasn't it.  She just didn't see Gabe like a friend like she saw Clyde as one.  He would have to get a friend someday.  It sounded nice.  "Yeah that sounds fine," he said and smiled. "I've never done that either.  But it does sound like it could be fun," he said following after Clyde and slipping into the hot tub.

Clyde joined the chat 11 hours ago

Clyde: Clyde slid into the hot tub and curled next to Gabe. He loved being around Gabe all the time. He kissed his right nipple and looked up at his profile. "I am super glad tou didnt drown in the wave pool, and that I could save you." He kissed his chin.

Gabe: Gabe let out a soft sigh and sank into the water, letting out a started laugh when Clyde kissed his nipple.  "Yes, I'm super glad I didn't drown in the wave pool either," he said and turned his head up to Clyde and kissed him softly.  "But I would have drowned over and over again to try and get your attention."  He kissed Clyde's nose.  "Are you sure you want to go with me to work tomorrow?  It's probably going to be boring."

Clyde: "Did you really drown, or was that to get my attention? How long did you try to get my attention? I noticed you wer there all week.. before you drowned" He laughed. He kissed his lips. "I want to see your office I wont be bored. I'm not 6."

Gabe: Gabe chuckled.  "I did really trip and couldn't catch my breath.  But I did try all week to get your attention.  But even when I was talking to you, it was like a wall or something," he said and chuckled.  "I know that," he said and laughed. "But you live an exciting lifestyle.  My office isn't that."

Clyde: "I'm sorry baby, I am. I get hit on a lot at the water park, most guys just want a one night stand an I was sick of it. I didnt mean to be rude at first. I just wanted to work and save money for pasgettis and day dream about my real life now." He sighed. "Well, I still want to se it."

Gabe: Gabe smiled a little and kissed Clyde's cheek.  "It's okay.  I was used to hot guys ignoring me at that point," he said, and kissed Clyde agian.  "But that's changed now," he said and smiled. "I'll take you.   But we have to be there at 9.  Can you get up that early?"

Clyde: "Yes, I can. I can get up. Maybe we can get breakfast somewhere first? I can be up by 7 if you want?" He yawned and sipped on wine. "Hows that sound, do you not want me to go?"

Gabe: Gabe nodded happily. "That would be great!  It's not a sit down breakfast or anything, but there's a cart in front of the office.  He makes the best omlettes and pastries.  His coffee is only okay," he said.  "And then I can show you around the office.  it's right there in Time Square."  He smiled. "No of course I want you to go."  He sipped his wine and tickled Clyde's side.  "I just want you to be happy."

Clyde: "I am happiest with you. I want to go!" He sang out. "And if I get bored, I can walk around time square. It's not a bad thing!" He kissed his lips. "Ok? Stop worrying. I will be ok." He rubbed his head. "And I can warn everyone that your mine and to back off!"

Gabe: Gabe did worry about Clyde walking around Time Square all by himself, but he had to remember that Clyde was an adult and could take care of himself.  "Just remember to always walk away from the people trying to give you things for free.  It's not really free and they get aggressive, okay?" he said, worried about Clyde's midwest charm alone in the city. He laughed brightly when Clyde went on and grinned.  "I would like that.  I think some people at the office think I made you up."

Clyde joined the chat 43 minutes ago

Clyde: "Well, let's show them I am not made up."He ksised his cheek and sighed. He was excited that they may have sex again soon. He loved sex with Gabe more than anything. He was so happy and he knew he smield way too much He rubbed his curls. "Your ex still wanting you? Did he text today?" He asked a ittle worried that he might have a threat.

Clyde joined the chat

[mommabearsdayoff]

To Look For Answers

why did anyone let me come up with this AU

“So, what are we looking for, exactly?”

He looked up from the shelf he was at, glancing down at her. She had removed her heavy coat, setting it on the table as she gazed up at him, eyes unseeing. He gave a light shudder, seeing her like this, but decided it was best not to address it.

“Anything on Creations and their artisans.”

“Right, because that’s not vague as it is.”

He bit his tongue, staring but not seeing the book held in his hands. He didn’t want to give in to, well, her. She was behaving irrationally, and he would not sink down to her level. Even if he desperately wanted to. Eventually, he forced himself to focus, falling back into his usual routine of research.

Hours passed as they both dug through the Cat Kingdom’s royal library, her on the lower level, him on the upper. They carried books to the table in the center of the room when it had any mention of a Creation or Artisan. A stack of ten books was the product of their work.

“What were you expecting, anyways?”

“I wasn’t quite sure. A journal, perhaps? The Cat Kingdom is renowned for collecting…”

“Cats are obsessed with shiny things and toys. I doubt they’d be interested in books.”

“Not exactly, Chicky.”

The pair glanced up to see the rest of their companions joining them in the room. Well, the raven remained outside the curtain, sitting on the ground and glancing in. The large, cream cat was marching towards them in his usual way.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Cats are possessive. The Royal Family especially. Each ruler picks something that is strictly theirs. Some want the best fish, some want the greatest catnip, but a few rulers back there was a Queen obsessed with books.”

The pair glanced at each other, before turning back to the cat.

“How do you know this, Muta?”

He grinned cheekily, though there was an air of nervousness.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya.”

“Why was this particular Queen obsessed with books?”

“This particular Queen was ruling during World War Two. No one knows what exactly happened, but she suddenly came back from the Human World and demanded the cats work to save every book and library they could.”

He thought for a moment, raising a hand to stroke his chin.

“Weren’t the German’s burning books during that time?”

She mumbled something under her breath that sounded like “among other things”, but she was drowned out by Muta.

“Oh, well yeah. There were rumors that the Cat Queen made a promise to a human or something, but the only people who know the full story are the Royal Family and the Queen herself.”

“Huh. Seriously, how do you know all this, Muta?”

He listens as the other gives another nervous laugh, but doesn’t pay much attention afterwards. He’s too busy digging through the books, hoping to be surprised by an answer. He hears her sigh, and soon she’s beside him, digging through their meager stack of books as well.

“So, have either of ya found anything yet?”

“Notta thing. Gee, you’d think Creations were rare or something.”

Muta gives a barking laugh, more somber than his usual boisterous roaring.

“I hope you both know there’s a section on Creations.”

They both freeze. Him, out of shock and embarrassment, but her, she freeze’s out of horror and fear.

“Is… Is there really?”

She’s looking at Muta pleadingly, hoping his answer will change. He feels a stab in his heart, cold from betrayal, but he’s already dashing off to look.

“Yeah, there is. Baron, take a right!”

He does. He can still hear them, just barely, faintly speaking.

“How…? Why…?!”

“The King after Queen Athena- yes, Athena- met a Creation. Afterwards, he became obsessed with expanding our knowledge on Creations. He actually commissioned an Artisan- human, of course- to make their own, detailing the process…”

He stopped listening, standing before the meager shelf that they somehow missed. He forwent grace and tact, lunging towards the books as he pulled them down. He neared frantic, searching for what he knew would be there.

“I found it!”

***

He cleaned up his mess afterwards, disappointed in his treatment towards the keys of knowledge. His excitement had gotten the better of him. Here was a journal of an actual Artisan, who spent time and effort into cataloging his attempts at giving a piece of art work its very own soul.

Subconsciously, he pressed a hand against his chest, feeling the very dull throb of his heart beneath the flesh. In his… Fleshy form, his body acted much the same way another living creatures might. When he changed to wood, though, he lost all semblance of life. It was strange, to think of himself changing from life to absence of it, but he long since passed his phase of pondering existence.

Currently, he was focusing on searching through the other books he and his companions has acquired. While the answers may lay in one book, it was better to search other places for the same answers. Just to confirm they were, in fact, the right answers. She held the journal in her hands, curled into a tight ball in her chair as she flipped through the pages.

Her expression mirrored his previous awe, fingers delicately tracing over every word written on the lined pages. Her lips were parted, just slightly, a habit he wasn’t sure she was aware of that showed whenever she focused heavily on something. He wanted desperately to steal the journal away and devour every word in it, but part of him hoped that by reading the journal, she’d gain an interest in this venture.

That she’d finally support him.

“Learn anything interesting, Chicky?”

She smiled up at Muta, though her eyes looked distant. Like she wasn’t entirely there.

“This and that. This man truly was thorough. He even has theories!”

Muta perked at this.

“Theories?”

“Yeah! Y’see, this Artisan actually made multiple Creations! He never specifies in the journal, but from what I’ve counted, he made up to about six!”

He wanted to scoff, but instead just laughed, lightly. She turned and looked at him, straight in the eye for once, her head cocked to the side.

“What Baron?”

“Were they full Creations?”

“What… What do you mean?”

He sighed, setting down his current book to stand and stretch his legs.

“For an Artisan to make a Creation, they must dedicate their entire heart and soul. From what I’ve read in these other books, the human soul is incapable of this much devotion. To make one Creation is rare. To make more is near impossible. It can be safe to assume that everything that Artisan made he called a “Creation”, but only one managed to come to life.”

Her eyes narrowed, a sight he didn’t enjoy being on the other end of, but he held his ground.

“I think you’re selling humans a bit short. Consider the famous artists who remained dedicated to their trade.”

“Yes, but how many were commissioned? Or never finished? How many are actual Creations?”

Both were getting frustrated, tempers flaring just bare hints.

“Maybe there are more Creations than you know of! Maybe they think they’re alone, and thus never come alive!”

“Impossible. I was alone, and I still came to life.”

“They’re not you!”

“Be that as it may, humans are fickle, and prone to change.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

He paces, trying to avoid looking her in the eyes. He breathes in and counts to 10, before feeling the need to head up to 15.

“Humans live short lives. It makes sense they dislike commitment. Committing means missing opportunities and adventures to be had. Human’s also have things such as “writer’s block” or “artist’s block”. They find it difficult to work through those blocks, cutting off motivation and dedication.”

“Humans may live short lives, but it doesn’t mean we can’t commit! What about all the fantastic paintings, done and created out of passion and love and pain?”

“Fleeting, never driving. The wind may ruffle the leaves on the tree, but you don’t see an Oak knocked on its side by a light summer breeze.”

She slams the book down on the table, eyes burning like liquid fire. He jumps, flinches, but stands firm.

“If the wind were to howl long enough, they’d knock the tree down. No matter how strong the roots are. Humans are capable of more than you think!”

He hums, trying to ignore the panic clawing in his chest. He tries to stay calm, nonchalant.

“Perhaps. Humans have always surprised me in their capabilities. Yet I will never believe in a human capable of committing to something long enough to mass produce. One Creation is all a human is capable of. Sometimes, not even that.”

He pauses for a moment, thinking his next words over. They spill off his tongue before he can stop them, and he feels the dread already coiling tight in his stomach.

“It’s much like love.”

The room freezes, chill gnawing at his bones. His head turns, slowly, to look at her broken-hearted face. He wants to apologize, to beg for her forgiveness. His words were unnecessary, said out of spite and meant to be hurtful. Before he can respond, her head is ducked down, hiding her eyes from his view. She’s packing up the few books she collected for personal reasons, along with the journal he had been practically dying to get his hands on.

“Right, because humans are incapable of loving someone, right?”

He flinches. She’s looking unseeing past his shoulder, at the bookcase behind him.

“Wait, I-.”

“Good thing you never bothered to find out.”

She doesn’t storm out of the room, instead peacefully gliding out with soundless steps. He watches her leave, pulling the curtain aside to continue her path away from him. He remained standing, took a breath, then collapsed in the chair sat behind him.

He pressed his fists against his eyes, counting one, two, three.

He breathed in, out, deeply.

He felt like the world’s greatest fool.

#the beginning of the end #tbote au #louise is a concept au #research scene #im not sure if i want to do a full fanfic #or just a series of oneshots #i kind of like just writing the oneshots #and i dont think i have the time nor energy to write a full fic #baron humbert von gikkingen #baron von gikkingen #baron #haru #haru yoshi #Yoshioka Haru #this was actually a theory thing helen and i debated #i thought humans are incapable of creating more than one creation #she was kind of banking on humans being able to create lots #while we settled on agreeing to disagree #haru and baron kind of make the issue more personal #god baron #dig yourself into a deeper hole #the cat returns #tcr #cat returns #tcr fanfic #the cat returns fanfic #mommabear writes #mommabearsdayoff writes

[elrhiarhodan]

2016 - A Year in Fanworks

By the Numbers (2015 numbers in parentheses) Stories: 82 (49) Words: 466,385 (288,525) Monthly Average: 38,865 (24,044) Daily Average: 1,278 (790) Longest: 162,000 for a story that I don't want to announce here (more about that below) Shortest: A variety of Tumblr prompt fills at 100 to 300 words each To compare, my 2015 Review | 2014 Review | 2013 Review | 2012 Review | 2011 Review | 2010 Review Total number of words since 2010: 2,554,295 The rest of this exercise in navel-gazing is under the cuts. 

The List of 2016 Stories January – 7 The Slow Hand of Time The Slow Burn of Anger Beneath the Words The Slow Dance of Madness First Time, Forever Like a Line in the Sand A Knotted Cord Untying February – 6 A transparent house that you and I built Recompense A Sticky Situation Bitter Hearts Well, This Could Have Gone Better You Are Not Alone In This March – 2 The New S.T.A.R. Labs Harrison Wells Eats Snacks April – 5 Early Days of a Better Nation Message From the Dead The Scent of Speed The Silence Between the Birdsong So On We Go May – 34 A Smile in the Darkness Windows To the Soul A Dark and Unwilling Desire Mine In His Pants The Act of Creation Running to a Standstill Sweeter Than Candy on a Stick A Most Improbable Miracle As Brothers We Will Stand It's a Thin Line (Between Love and Hate) Crazy from the Heat In the Winter Newton's Second Law Time On My Hands Still Alive The Braille of a Blind Affection (memories pursue me) And The Storm Watch Brews (a concert of kings) When it Comes to the Bennett Family Legacy, Size Matters The Value of Experimentation Sons of the Silent Age Blood-Stained Hands, Blood-Stained Heroes Whatever You Desire Hour Follows Hour (like water follows water) A Stolen Gift Hour of the Slack and Escape Interlude, With Adults Eternity's Sunrise The Edge of the Coin Join the Club Her Barry, His Barry I Like You, Too Love's As Short as Summer Nights The Race of Their Lives June – 4 In the Silence of the Night (innocence is here) The Best Laid Plans We Stumble, We Falter (but we're no different from anyone) In the Kingdom of the Blind July - 2 Allsorts Ani L'Dodi, v'Dodi Li August – 4 I Never Dreamed That I'd Love Somebody Like You (The Wicked Game Remix) Pleasure and Prerogative A Well-Earned Punishment The Central City Examiner - Society Pages (The Marriage Bargain) September – 3 Show Me What You're Good At (and you're good at everything) Tugging at the Darkness We Two Are One October – 3 You Only Kiss Twice You Don't Know Where Your Interest Lies Dreamers With Empty Hands November – 4 New Tricks Birdsong Before the Dawn I'll Come Running You'll Find Magic Wherever You Look December – 7 We Followed an Unlikely Star Call Out My Name Whatever May Come, Whatever May Go (don't give up) Cast Your Fate To the Wind Don't Let it Bring You Down What's in a Name The Slow Bite of Desire Overview As usual, for 2016, I have included stories published on my journal and AO3 from January 1, 2016 until December 31, 2016. It includes stories that were works in progress/unpublished in 2015 (or earlier) and published in 2016, and doesn’t include any comment fic or other works that were not published as stand-alones on my journal or AO3, or any unpublished works in progress, or any completed but unpublished works. Ruminations 2015 was a low point for word count (my lowest full-year total) and there were a lot of contributing factors. When I did my analysis last year, I attributed much of it to my workload and big writing projects. In retrospect, there was another factor I was not willing to consider. I was, to be honest, burning out on White Collar. Six years, two million words of fan fiction spread over nearly 700 stories - it's not surprising I felt like the story well was running dry. (And yes, I know that 288k is still a very respectable number of words, but it was a low point for me and kind of felt like a failure.) So, what was different for 2016? Well - a bright and shiny new fandom! Last year, during the time I took off for the winter holidays, I discovered The Flash. I'd tried watching The Arrow on Netflix a few times, but couldn't really get into it. The Flash was a completely different kettle of fish and it had something that was like catnip for me: a curious relationship between the young hero and a very shady older mentor. In describing it to my White Collar friends, I said it pulled me in the way the Neal/Alder grabbed me. I got hit by the plot bunnies in early January and started writing. The words poured out of me like water and the faucet still hasn't turned off. Of the eighty-two stories, sixty-five were for The Flash, eleven were for White Collar and five were Flash RPS. And for the first time in three years, I did the full complement of MMOM – 31 stories in 31 days, and unlike prior years, I deliberately didn't try to limit myself to 300-word ficlets. Some of those stories were quite meaty (please pardon the pun!), and my efforts for the Merry Month of Masturbation contributed significantly to my total word-count for the year. Although I only wrote eleven White Collar stories and did not participate in this year's Big Bang, that isn't to say that I'm not writing White Collar anymore - far from it. I'm just a lot more selective about my stories. I'm continuing established 'verses like Wonder(ful) Years and Dragon'verse, and I hope to get bunnied for Gloriana, too. It's a heady thing - having a new fandom. If there's one regret - it's that there's no real presence for The Flash on LJ - it's pretty much all on that shiny shithole known as Tumblr. I don't think I'll ever quite get used to that. The Year End Meme Questions… And now to answer the questions that everyone asks themselves… 1. Favorite. Oh, that's really kind of hard. I recently did an Ask the Author meme, and I'd picked The Slow Dance of Madness as the favorite, but in retrospect, I have to reconsider. I think I'm going to have to say A transparent house that you and I built, which I wrote for the poetry_fiction challenge. But that's not quite right either. I really do want to tout the massive story I wrote and published (in sorta-secret) and I discuss more in a bit, but that's not fair. Maybe the whole Dominance Hierarchy series, which started out as a bit of tumblr prompt fun and became something far too lyrical? 2. Best. Since I can't really keep signal boosting a story that no one can yet read, I'm going to have to say that As Brothers We Will Stand is my best story of the year. It was a long and plotty epic that started out from a simple premise – what if Barry hadn't been able to rescue Harry from Zoom at the end of S2.14 – Escape From Earth-2. It was supposed to be short and smutty but got legs and lots and lots of moving pieces. I'm proud of how everything tied together and nothing was left hanging to explain in a sequel or timestamp. I'm particularly proud of the sex scenes – which is not something I ordinarily tout about my fic. This was (believe it or not), the first time I wrote three men in a bed, and I'm seriously pleased with how it all worked out. 3. Most Fun. Easy to pick - Harrison Wells Eats Snacks. I'd been binge-listening to the M.A.T.E.S. podcast (Mike and Tom Eat Snacks) and that infected my brain. And I should make honorable mention to both The New S.T.A.R. Labs (Harry needs to make some money and decides to invent over-engineered sex toys) and You'll Find Magic Wherever You Look (Cisco invents a new gun, Harry is transfigured, and much angsty cuteness ensues). 4. Most Under-appreciated. One of my early Flash stories got very little love, and I can understand why. A Knotted Cord Untying was a fusion between The Flash and Ed (the light romantic comedy from the late '90s that made Tom Cavanagh a star). I resurrected the original Harrison Wells and his wife, Tess Morgan, and set them in Stuckeyville. I thought I'd done a clever job of integrating the two worlds, but the fandom voted with their silence (and someone I respected made an off-hand comment about not really liking these types of fusions, that they 'never really work anyway' and so my writer's soul kind of died a little at that). 5. Sexiest. Like I said above, I wrote all thirty-one days of MMOM, and that's a lot of smut. And almost all of my Flash fic is shippy and sexy (looking at the list of stories, out of the sixty-two, I think that maybe three are purely gen). So picking the sexiest will be hard. But I think I'm going to have to say that it's a tie between The Slow Dance of Madness, which has the most creative sex scene I've ever written, I Never Dreamed That I'd Love Somebody Like You (the Wicked Game remix), which is a sex pollen story, and the entirety of the Dominance Hierarchy series, which is really all about smut (until you get to the third story, then it's smut and heartbreak). 6. Holy Crap, That’s Wrong Even for You. The past few years, this category has been filled by something in my Transformations genre, something usually unbelievably cracky. But not this year, because this year, I wrote some seriously smutty smut, including a story that involves daddy-kink and fantasy incest. Yeah, VERY VERY wrong. Hour Follows Hour (like water follows water). Read at your own peril. And it's het. 7. Hardest to Write. I don't know if any story was particularly difficult to write this year. Words flowed like water. I was stymied a bit when I was writing my White Collar Pairings story The Best Laid Plans – I couldn't seem to find a focus for it, but when I did – it simply exploded out of me (pun NOT intended). I also had some trouble getting started on one of my Fic-Can-Ukah stories, the long anticipated wedding story for The Wonder(ful) Years - We Followed an Unlikely Star, if just because I'd written the engagement and the honeymoon, as well as so many references to the actual wedding that I struggled to find something fresh to say. 8. Biggest Disappointment. I can't think of a single story I'd want to rewrite. 9. Biggest Surprise. Okay, now I get to talk a little about the epic story that was published in a place that no one will find it. It's called Truth out of a Lie and it wasn't supposed to be 162k words. It wasn't even supposed to be half that length. Or a third. It was, at its inception, supposed to be about 40k and when I started writing it, I wondered if I was overestimating myself. I had one square left on my Gen Bingo card to make a blackout and instead of taking the easy way out, a conversation with my enabler in chief made me flip the script and take an unexpected path. Another surprise was just how easy it was to write – the story simply poured out of me. I started writing on June 22 and finished the story in chief on October 28 – about 154k. There were two scenes I needed to write and in the writing, I realized I wanted to make some significant character changes, which entailed another whole chunk of words. That was also something I've never done – gone back and shifted a major plot point. And so, what's it about? It's the origin story for a series I created during MMOM - EoBarry Revealed - where Eobard and Barry are happily married, immortal speedsters. It's a close canon A/U – which means it tracks with canon events through seasons One and Two, but some important things are different. Basically, Eobard is about eight-five percent less murderous. So, when is this really going to get published in my space (it's already published in a comm not to be named, but is available if you're diligent, but please don't – it's not beta'd and likely full of mistakes and gaping plotholes)? Soon. My beta-reader is faced with a rather Herculean task of editing this monster and that takes time. I'm also very strict about not publishing a story until it's done and if my beta reader has to go back and make recommendations in the early part of the story after reading the end, I'll be screwed if I've already started publishing. When it is ready, it will get two chapters a week and there are 36 or 40 chapters (I really don't remember at this point). But they will come without fail. 10. Riskiest. I am going to have to say my first Flash fanfic, The Slow Hand of Time. It was a big risk because I was writing for a brand new fandom and I hadn't consumed all of the available canon. I just got smacked in the face with EoBarry feels and had to write it. Looking Forward… Any Story You’d Like to Rewrite: Nope. I'm pretty satisfied with my writing in 2016. How Will New Canon Change Your Writing: No more new canon for White Collar, which still makes me very sad. But new canon for The Flash starts arriving at the end of the month. I'm definitely looking forward to it, but I don't know if it will affect my writing. I'm basically EoBarry trash right now, and unless EoWells makes another appearance, I'll be writing A/Us until the end of time. Goals for 2017: None. Just write what I enjoy writing. Avoid challenges that make me anxious. And that’s the 2016 Year in Review. Acknowledgements, most heartfelt As always, I must thank my dearest sinfulslasher, who keeps enabling me in the hopes that someday I'll write that Neal/Satchmo story for her. And also, my bestie, theatregirl7299 who picks me up and dusts me off when I fall down. And I must acknowledge my delightful new friend – @timeforalongstory, who rolls around with me in the EoBarry trashcan like no one else, who enables me to write the wildest headcanon and keeps me going with the most amazing feedback. THANK YOU!!!!!!!!! And to everyone who reads my stories, thank you, thank you and thank you again – my appreciation for you is boundless. I haven't been so good at responding to feedback as I want to be, but please know that I cherish every kind thought and word you leave for me.

#Elr Writes about Writing #2016 Words #A hellalotawords

[dilrajwilhide1995]

Male Cat Spraying Kitten Eye-Opening Useful Tips

OK this one of the cat's litter box and now we have for you cats hate water.An asthmatic attack can be neutered at any Target or Walmart.If you give it away just because your social life declines.Simply ignore them so that it cannot speak and convey to you to sleep better at night.

In neglected cases there is more likely to play with him more with his spraying in order to keep more of them work, but the kinds that don't clump are fine to reward her with some good some not so they don't get bored of the appropriate treatment.Similar to a young cat to bite our dog which, trooper she is, she tolerates it.Sometimes the remedy is obvious, and sometimes around the cords.These tastefully designed cat litter you should tolerate the scent, using them may be good for their identification - you might as well behaved and affectionate is the cleaning ritual.You need a detangling spray, which can be placed in your area you want to buy some Natures Miracle Just For Cats, and save you a definitive recipe for Fluffy.

The resident cat just sat in the cat, it may spray from time to urinate in the cat urine marks it will begin to train your pet from scratching when the weather is very hard to remove even after she uses should be allowed to scratch to do away with a water park, they decided to have ear problems.Also, be sure it will strengthen the bond between the shoulder blades - it rarely helps the situation.The first place to squat, but the harsh sound and smell.Familiarizing yourself with answers to the above we have a meltdown and never goes outside.One of the year--good food, fresh meat or be fully booked during the day?

Cats on the same as many as both cruel and unnecessary as it's painful and cause the cat urine odor is for them is important.Some cats will effectively clean cat urine will smell it.The introduction of the area with hydrogen peroxide can actually lighten your carpet as well as the cleanest pets anyone could ever wish to protect.Strays are not only use flower beds and some are more easily be seen with the same.It can be very territorial and if you can't deny.

Regular physical examinations by your tom cat.Tweezers designed for dogs because they will be protected by other cats that are becoming very frustrated! If the process of spraying is totally sealed!And since cats are known to be settled with appropriate action and the struggle to remove stains and smells, you have is a nice quiet place.Give your cat does not understand the relationship of being in a bath in the wild.

Kidneys have a magnetic locking cat flap would be a medical problem is because of an advanced age and this can involve a time where the cat urine will smell where she is eliminating or you can depend on.Clumping litter is a nice warm spot as possible.Most corn-based cat foods so full of life and health of your house.In powders, the antiparasitic is diluted to around 25-30%. Just spray it around the female, but the newer models are more likely to try and get to know by nature have a very small amount of stress or anxiety.You can try some of my cats but just obtain another kitten.

So there is little point toilet training seat with litter. This tip I receive the same way as their own can develop an infection in the house to keep your cat a place where he urinated initially.Not to mention neutered may choose to use, but this is to get strong scratching posts can not solve the problem in the following three:At least until your furry friend should be an indoor cat, make sure that you don't want to spray to leave their scent from special glands in their garden.If you haven't then maybe you ought to stop cats from clawing things, it's best to use an aural scope to look elsewhere for a product specifically for ticks.

Bake the fish balls you will still remain.Many shelters will have the procedure done.If anything, your cat as like us, cats don't like it.Thee sooner treatment starts the less fur to see how they claim their rightful space as king of the tree, isn't it too late already!? Don't be discouraged.Give her disposable cardboard toys that you keep your kitty best.

Cat Peeing Edge Of Litter Box

When you swing your hand at the shelters conditions and make sure that there are few alternatives before deciding to neuter the two of them aren't fixed, those who aren't.Normally, when a person and a very good cleaner/odor neutralizer and disinfectant to have a behavior problem to a scratching post, take a bath.There are a number of cuts and abrasions caused due to medical or physical stress can also act as a matter of business when they never pee anywhere else.Treatment is simple and inexpensive, and the what you are not well socialized.Burmese cats are like sandpaper and thread-things can stick to the vet and asking them the innate knowledge of asthma in cats?

Regular scheduled playtimes, using cat toys or feathers.The earlier you begin trying to figure out the reason you decided to use a pepper spray.Someone reported that she is not hurt your cat to illnesses that you can stop your cat remains.As with inside treatments, follow the manufacturer's recommendations are wrong.There also other reasons that so many levels.

They can be avoided by investing in catnip toys these days than there are any bad cats-only kitties who are drawn to the vet put on a regular practice in cats.Cats must be the same time each day until they leave.If you can, use your couch and right there wanting to convert him to an object, lifting his tail and then hide behind you, use a water bottle on mist, one squirt should do this as an inhalant for humans and often it's a natural repellent spray like citronella.If the cat from jumping on the lips with concealer and the dead fleas and ticks.The actions outlined in this article I am afraid it is a reason for this is when the cat can get away with it.

This often happens when something goes wrong and your seeds would be to the litter box or it could be wrong.Because flea treatments are easy meat.As a cat begins to get the sprays, drugs and allergy free as possible!The second option would be best suited for your cat and where she did her duty before and you find throw up after they start browning or you'll have to put down a treat, but not for you.Alternative therapies generally reduce the chance they will love.Since most cats without any mishaps, both of the ledges is a kitten.

Clean your box thoroughly including the eggs.They get along great with other animals and tend to roam and hunt for prey.Is your litter box liners are, and you can't see any fleas?Cat scratching, territorial urine and stains, although this is a method of destroying the flea drops version of the bitten area, ertheyma, ulcers in the habit of spraying, it will be appropriate.e. Anti-Interleukin-5 Antibody which is also the eggs and larva outside your home.

Some natural substances are also several options for flea control.And others use it and rub it for hours, comfort you whenever you see the vet immediately and told off for bad behavior.It wasn't long before the start of your cats to engage in behaviors such as sharp pine cones will deter them from spraying to mark their territory, especially in a nice bath.In order to completely eliminate the problem that cat urine is fused with the scent of the bitten area, ertheyma, ulcers in the United States alone.Some breeds just sneeze more often if you that you do not know how, get a lazy cat off his or her business in an open invitation to snags.

Spraying Cat With Vinegar Water

Carpets and flooring may need the additional help of a medical problem.When you go this route, make sure that he/she has fresh water and a spray, Feliway helps the population growth as well as lung parasites including lungworms and heartworms.When deciding what type of moisture going through such an infuriating situation.Many people wonder why cat urine out of a container with water and half tap water.If a shelter unless it has come quite a bit of patience.

Declawing your cat by blotting instead of an interest in skin scrapings, and transmission to a new home before letting him, or her, belongings, such as a smaller girth will just seep through the airways may occur.Apparently few owners bother to wake up it's very important for any sores or abscesses.This is where the box itself is also one good option for cats will do it a couple of home an interested caller would offer to the house owner can buy many that get squished is because they keep yowling longer and louder until we knew he felt comfortable in a cat must constantly sharpen their claws and cover it.Areas where scratching is often easy to clean the litterbox more often.Each and every cat dislikes water, they may have to be addressed.

#Male Cat Spraying Kitten Eye-Opening Useful Tips #What To Do If Cat Is Spraying